Highland Mists: A Highland Romp
Author: McQueen, Hildie
Date: 2019-09-03

Highland Mists

A Highland Romp

USA Today Bestselling Author Hildie McQueen

Contents

Copyright

Also by USA Today Bestselling Author Hildie McQueen

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

About the Author

HIGHLAND MISTS: A Highland Romp

Pink Door Publishing

Editor: Scott Moreland

Proofreader: Bobbie Sue Louk

Cover Artist: Dar Albert

Copyright Hildie McQueen 2019

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader.

If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your retailer and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author

Created with Vellum

Also by USA Today Bestselling Author Hildie McQueen

Other Works by Hildie McQueen

(In reading order)

Highland Romps

Declan’s Bride

Ian’s Bride

Highland Mists

Highlander’s Bride

Moriag Series

Beauty and the Highlander

Lady and the Scot

The Lass and the Laird

The Laird’s Daughter

Clan Ross*

The Heartless Laird

The Hardened Warrior

The Hellish Archer

Other Books

The Duke’s Fiery Bride

The Sea Lyon

The Sea Lord

Highland Archer

*Releasing soon

Prologue

The backdrop of the Highlands and the misting coming from the mountains down to Loch Caron sets the scene for this small village nestled between the craggy slopes and a thick forest.

Moriag village, with its hardened dirt main road down the middle, is anchored by large stables where the locals and travelers house their steeds and on the opposite end of the street, a humble monastery.

In the center of town is where the people congregate regularly, the small market bustling with activity most days. There's also the local inn, which not only serves hot meals, but a warm bed and rest for weary travelers.

The town tavern owned by Quinn Robertson is the perfect place for the men of Moriag to find out news and get into trouble.

Tucked in the corner next to the stables is where Paden Fraser fulfills the duties of blacksmith. He’s lived in Moriag for eight years, first as apprentice and later, taking over the work from the older blacksmith, Angus who became too old to continue in his duties. However Angus continues to come around daily to help when he can or to share bits of wisdom disguised as sarcasm.

Chapter One

"Ye must make amends for what ye've done Paden Fraser." Spittle sprayed from the angry man's mouth, but the blacksmith, Paden, did not back away.

It would have been wiser to indeed take a step back. However, it was hard to think reasonably past the red haze of his fury. Although Paden kept his arms down, his hands curled into fists and nostrils flared.

"Whatever yer daughter says. Tis a lie. I have never lain with her."

As the older man continued on about marriage and such, Paden searched his memory for the face of this woman who claimed he took her.

If he remembered correctly, Fenella Hay was not an attractive woman, if he'd tupped her, surely he'd remember. Unfortunately, the timing was accurate. On the night the farmer claimed his daughter was accosted, he had been at the tavern. He’d drank too much that night and had stumbled to his small cottage in the wee hours of the morning.

"God's blood, ye will marry my daughter and that is the end of it. She is fraught with despair and cannot be comforted." The farmer’s mottled face turned even redder.

Paden purposely flexed his arms, satisfied when the man's attention went to his thick biceps. "And if I refuse?"

His tactic worked and the red-faced farmer took a step backward. "I'll go to the clergy. He surely will bring ye to heel." He rushed off in the direction of the church, hunched forward with purpose.

With jerky movements, Paden yanked the cord holding his hair back allowing his dark waves to fall about his shoulders. He then raked his fingers through the tresses in exasperation. “That is the last time I drink so much.”

Choruses of chuckles from behind, made him clench his jaw. Old Angus and two stable lads stood leaning on the fence watching. He spun to them. "There is work to be done, no time to dally about and poke yer noses where they don't belong."

“Ah do not go screaming at the lads,” Old Angus said between chuckles. “Tis an interesting way to pass the time, to watch how ye will get out of this one.”

The farmer continued on his trek to the church, barely stopping when someone attempted to make conversation. Slowing down just enough, the farmer waved his hands as he spoke and pointed towards Paden who crossed his arms and glared.

With a growl, Paden turned back to the stable and just as he advanced toward the wide-eyed lads, a man on horseback approached.

"Paden Fraser, Laird McNeil requests yer presence at his keep."

The perfect opportunity to get away from the village in case one of the friars, or worse Father Gregor came back with the angry farmer. "Aye good, let me get my steed, I will come immediately."

"No need to come today, within a day tis fine," the guard said no doubt hoping to spend time at the tavern or with a village lass.

Paden did not feel bad for him in the least. Guardsmen at the keep had a good life. As there was rarely any trouble in the peaceful lands, they spent their days with sword training and busy work, followed by meals with the laird's family and entertainment by night.

"Nay I prefer to go now."

The guard shrugged. "Very well, tis good I suppose as the laird's cousin and guardsmen arrived from Skye and will need their horses looked after."

The statement made the blood in his veins freeze.

Skye.

He'd not gone far enough from that place it seemed.

Skye was the one place he would never return to, unless men dragged him there to get the reward on his head.

This time his pace slower, he went about collecting tools that he packed in a leather case. The lads hurried to prepare his steed as he went to his cottage to collect a tartan and change clothes.

Hopefully the visitors would not recognize him. Paden had grown a beard and kept his hair long to help hide his features. Today it would come in very handy.

Chapter Two

It was but a couple hours ride to the McNeil's keep and Paden took his time. Along the way he pondered how to keep from being seen by any of the McNeil’s of Skye. Hopefully none were friends of his family, although he did recall the McNeils were not far from his family land.

The proud grey stone structure towered behind high walls designed to keep the clan safe in case of enemy attack.

As far as Paden knew it had been only recently for the first time in ages, that villagers had sought sanctuary when a selfish laird, mistaking McNeil for an easy target attempted to overthrow the laird. Obviously the greedy man was not aware that although three clans lived in the area, coexisting peacefully, they had fiercely trained guards and would also join forces to protect that peaceful life. The attackers were easily defeated, since most defected and left. Only a very few were willing to die for the man who’d instigated the attack.

The gates to the courtyard were open, and he guided his horse in and to the left where the stables were. Several guardsmen milled around in groups, some practicing, others keeping watch. Small groups of men and women milled about, performing assigned duties.

Dugan, the laird's head guard came to greet him with a wide grin. The tall thick muscled man grasped Paden’s shoulder when he dismounted.

"Aye Paden, nice to see ye without a tankard in hand," Dugan said reminding him of the one particular night at the tavern and the consequences he’d come to escape from.

Although they rarely saw each other, they’d become good friends. When Dugan came to the village and brought his horse to the stables or when Paden was called to the keep they often spent time in friendly banter.

"Do ye remember which lasses came around us last time ye were with me at the tavern?" Paden ensured to keep his voice low.

Dugan frowned. "Nay I donna remember anything to do with any lasses. What happens?"

"Hay, the farmer came to me this morning. One of his daughters claims to be ruined and he is demanding I marry her. I don't remember anything happening? Do ye?"

"Och," Dugan shook his head and grimaced. "Tis would be bad. His daughters are homely, no doubt the only way he can marry them off. He could 'ave been there that night and saw how much we drank."

The large man looked around as if expecting the farmer to come after him next. "What are ye going to do?"

"Run," Paden replied with a grin and both broke out into chuckles. "What else can I do?" He scanned the courtyard for any new faces. "Who comes from Skye?"

"They just arrived, a small time ago.” At Dugan’s reply, Paden eyed his horse and considered leaving.

Not noticing his tension, Dugan continued. “The laird's brother, he and his wife bring with them a daughter who is to remain here for a season. Now that lass is quite comely. I would not mind..." He cut the sentence short and cleared his throat. "Speaking of which."

Paden turned to see several men exiting the main door of the keep. Laird McNeil walked with another man who favored him and three women. Paden recognized the laird's wife and figured the other women who held on to her arms as the Laird's brother's wife and daughter. When his gaze fell on the youngest woman, he had to blink to get a better look.

The woman wore a form fitting dark green gown, the jeweled tone brought out her sun kissed skin and reddish hair. Her large expressive eyes scanned the courtyard as she tilted her head to listen to whatever her uncle spoke of.

Paden turned away, hoping to find the shelter of the stables to hide in until they went back inside when the Laird McNeil’s loud call for the guard to come forward stilled everyone, him included.

Unaware he sought to hide, Dugan nudged him. "Come line up with us."

The guardsmen fell into four straight rows of eight men each. Paden ensured to be in the back. Nonetheless, the laird's keen eyes fell upon him almost immediately. "Aye Fraser, glad to see ye here."

The laird turned to his brother. "Fraser is the town blacksmith, who will see about yer horses. Tis the best blacksmith in the land." The brother along with the four guardsmen behind the group looked to him with interest.

When Paden dragged his eyes from the laird’s, his gaze collided with the young woman's.

Her eyes widened and lips parted. As she continued to look directly at him the beautiful green eyes narrowed as if she suspected something. Then ever so slowly her lips curved.

The spell was broken when one of the women took her arm guiding her away toward the gardens. Just before walking around the corner of the building, she turned and once again looked to him.

"That could be trouble," Dugan said apparently having noticed how the laird's niece paid Paden extra attention.

"Tis the last thing I need right now," Paden grumbled. "I will leave as soon as possible, once my work is done"

Laird McNeil and his brother approached. The laird, a good man with an easygoing disposition beamed with pride when looking from him to Dugan. "I have a fine leader of the guard brother. Anything ye need, do not hesitate to call upon Dugan."

Dugan lowered his head at their laird and waited for whatever he'd say next. The laird looked to Paden. "Tis good of ye to get here so soon. Join us for the evening meal Paden."

"Thank ye Laird for honoring me with such, but I can eat out here with the stable hands." Paden hoped the man would not insist.

"Nonsense. I expect ye to sup with us." The men walked away toward where the guards had resumed sword practice.

His friend chuckled. "Seems to me ye just went from the pot straight into fire."

Paden grumbled in response, “tis not my lucky day.”

Just then a visiting guard approached, the older man was not familiar to Paden. The man studied Dugan, and then looked to Paden. "My horse stumbled a bit on the way here. Can ye look at him?"

“Aye just point the beast out to me.” The man nodded and walked toward the corrals, but Dugan and Paden followed him.

“That one, the reddish one,” he pointed to a magnificent animal.

“Tis a beauty,” Paden said meaning it.

The guard studied the horse with pride. “Aye he is.”

“I hope to ride him tomorrow. Please inform me,” the man started to walk away, but hesitated and turned to Paden. His narrowed eyes scanned over his face. "Do ye have family in Skye? Ye look familiar to me."

Paden assumed a bored expression and shook he head. “Nay.”

Chapter Three

Emma could barely hear whatever her aunt and mother said. Her mind was awhirl at having seen the handsome man lined up with the guards. From where she stood, she kept her gaze toward the courtyard that was visible from the gardens hoping to catch another glimpse, but it was futile.

Despite wishing to be in back in front, to seek out the blacksmith, Emma was immediately taken in by the beauty of her aunt Grisella's garden. It was evident her aunt loved gardening and many hours had been devoted to cultivating the enchanting space.

There were colorful flowering plants intermingled with lush ivy and thick leaved plantings. A waist high ivy covered brick wall divided the area. On the other side was a large space in which herbs and food plants were. In this area, which received longer sun coverage, vegetables flourished.

She kneeled and sniffed at a bloom. "I've never seen this type of flower before." The white flower had a delicate, but sweet fragrance.

Her aunt beamed with pride. "It is from Ireland. I acquired it from a traveling tribe of gypsies that came through the village."

“Tis beautiful. There is so much to admire here.”

Her mind automatically went to the handsome man in the courtyard. "Why do ye have to call a blacksmith to come and shoe horses? Do ye not have a smithy in the keep?" She hoped her question sounded as only mild curiosity.

Her aunt smiled. "Paden comes here often or the guards take horses to the village. He does very good work, not just with shoeing but in making swords and such." She shook her head. "Yer uncle would like nothing more than to have him live here, but he provides much needed assistance to the other lairds in Moriag so tis best for him to remain in the village."

Over an hour later, after dallying about, they finally they made their way back toward the courtyard, Emma stretched her neck hoping to spot the blacksmith, but he was nowhere to be seen. She let out a sigh and followed her mother and aunt indoors.

The women decided they’d drink warm beverages and head to the sitting room to continue chatting. Emma had no choice but to follow as the great room was empty, except for a couple of servants sweeping and wiping tables.

An hour later, she put her embroidery hoop down and stretched. "I require fresh air. Can I walk outside alone?"

Her aunt nodded, "Aye the keep grounds are quite safe. With so many guards about, ye will feel secure."

Emma hurried out before her mother would come up with an excuse to stop her. She had to get a closer look at the blacksmith. He was too familiar, and she had the feeling to have met him before. The man had not come forth and admitted to knowing her father upon his closer inspection, however, something about him had made her take notice.

Once outside, Emma hesitated upon entering the courtyard and looked about. It was best to avoid the nosy guardsmen that had traveled from Skye. Every one of them would report to her parents.

Not seeing any of the men from Skye, she hurried toward the stables ignoring the curious glances from her uncle’s guards who milled about.

The draw to go and find him was strong and although she understood it was unbecoming of a woman to seek out a particular man, reason did not matter at the moment.

Upon spotting one of the guards, she pretended not to notice him. Ignoring his curious gaze, she continued past him.

“Milady do ye need something?”

Barely hesitating, she glanced over her shoulder. “Nay, I seek to check on my horse, she lied. She is used to me feeding her something daily.”

Although the man frowned, he didn’t protest as she continued toward the stables.

To the side of the stables there was a circular stone fixture, from the center of it a bright fire. There beside the fiery heat stood the blacksmith. His long hair was tied back with a leather strap. About his chest and waist a thick leather apron. In one hand he held a hammer in the other metal tongs holding a red-hot tipped piece of iron. Rivulets of perspiration dribbled down his temples as he studied the item he worked on. Unable to keep from staring, she noted his muscular arms and strong stance.

He was breathtaking. Not just his body, but also his face. Even the facial hair could not hide his handsome features.

Just then his dark gaze lifted to her and she felt her own widen at being caught watching him. His eyelids lowered just enough to let her know he found her study of him annoying, which made her considered dashing away. Instead she lifted an eyebrow in challenge.

The hammer fell upon the iron in his other hand the resounding bang echoed in her own chest. He continued with pound after pound, promptly ignoring her.

"Lady Emma, is there something I can do for ye?" The man she recognized as the leader of the guard approached and stopped a proper distance away.

"Nay. I was just curious as to how the fire and iron work. Tis quite entrancing is it not?" She smiled at the guard who upon close inspection proved to be quite attractive, yet he did not peak her interest in the same way the blacksmith did.

"I have to admit to watching Paden work at times. He is a very good blacksmith, but be wary. Ye should keep yer distance milady. I wouldna like to see ye harmed in any way."

"Harmed?" She looked back to the blacksmith who continued to ignore them. "What kind of a harm do ye speak of?"

The guard seemed to search for a reply, his gaze scanning the ground. "He is not a kind man. Has a fiery temper."

"Oh." She couldn't help but steal another glance to the handsome man. "How do ye mean?”

The guard scowled in the blacksmith’s direction. "Aye milady, tis not the thing a man can speak to a lady about. Just know tis best ye keep yer distance."

Emma nodded and glanced back at the blacksmith. Something didn't seem right. But instead of asking more questions she shrugged. “I will check on my horse then.”

The guard walked with her to the stables keeping his body between hers and the blacksmith. Emma wanted to roll her eyes. It was obvious the blacksmith cared little what she did and would not react to her being in the stables.

Finally left on her own, she went to her gentle mare and brushed her hand over it’s mane. The horse responded by nudged at her side hopeful for a treat. Emma chuckled.

“Ye are lucky. I happen to have a carrot, just for ye.”

Once she gave the horse it’s treat, she guided it out to the stables. One of the stable lads rushed to her. “I can do it milady. Forgive me for not taking her out earlier.”

Emma smiled at the boy. “Do not worry. She is happy to be indoors or out. Tis I who makes her venture out. My Daisy is quite easy to please.”

Once the lad walked off with her horse, Emma headed back to the main courtyard. She ensured not to look in the direction of where the blacksmith continued to work.

A young woman watched over a group of six children and Emma decided to assist. “Are they all yers?”

The woman looked up and smiled. “Goodness no. They belong to two of the women who work in the kitchen. I am the caregiver since I cannot stand for long.” The woman pointed to her back. “I fell off a cart months ago and hurt my back.”

“I’m Emma. I’ll sit and help you for a bit. Tis too nice a day to be indoors.”

Once again the woman smiled. “I am Nell.” She motioned to the bench. “Sit with me.”

From the bench where they sat, Emma had a clear view of the stables. She noted Dugan and the blacksmith talked with the familiarity of a close friendship. The guard laughed at something the blacksmith said while looking in her direction. Emma narrowed her eyes. Were they talking about her? Perhaps it was because the guard had lied to her to keep her away from the blacksmith.

The guard had lied in order to keep her away. Why?

At the evening meal, she'd find a way to speak to the blacksmith. There was something she had to know. If he was a member of the family in Skye, it was possible he was to be an important part of her life. That she would find him after all this time had to be fate.

The way her every instinct came to life and her body’s reaction was not just because he was handsome. It was something different altogether. She was meant to know him, for whatever reason the two of them would speak and once that was done, she'd know for sure what was to come.

Then again, it could be that she'd just found someone that would keep her interest while in Moriag. She wasn’t shy about her body’s needs although most of the time she’d kept any liaisons to one or two times at the most.

Now that she was to remain in Moriag for a season, she would not lose the opportunity for some enjoyment.

Her father intended for her to consider remaining in Moriag permanently. He wanted her away from the threat of a clan conflict between their clan and another. However, Skye was home and it beckoned her to return. No matter what happened, she would return there. For the moment, she’d play along with her father’s plans after all he was doing what he could to protect her.

Emma let out a sigh. If she was to be away from home and all she knew for the foreseeable future, she may as well find a bright spot in all of it.

* * *

At last meal, trenchers piled high with choice cuts of meat and root vegetables were placed on the long tables. It had been a long time since Paden had seen so much food. He usually ate in the village pub or a small meal he cooked in his cottage.

Deciding to keep from being noticed as much as possible, he sat at the table with some of the guardsmen. Here with them, it would be easier to blend in with them, and not attract the attention of the visiting clan.

Head bent over the food on his trencher, Paden kept from looking to the head table. Once the meal was over and he would slip away at first chance.

Skye was the one place he preferred never to think about. But it seemed that no matter how long one was gone from a place, people always remembered. Being that he’d left behind after a particular battle, it was even more memorable.

Then there was the similarity of the men in his family. Perhaps he was not as familiar to them or they’d never met him, but the resemblance of men within his clan was uncanny.

The guardsmen drank tankards of ale, but none drank enough to become drunk. It was obvious everyone at the McNeil keep was aware of the visitors and did not wish to take a chance at making a bad impression for their laird. Or perhaps it was that bad news was brought which meant they’d be prepared for threat of some type. He hated not knowing, so he looked across the table at one of the archers. Paden had no way of knowing the reason for the McNeil’s of Skye being there.

“Do ye think the visit had a purpose other than just family visiting each other?”

The guard slid a glance toward the high board where the laird and visitors sat. “They never come without bad news. The Campbells have attacked their keep.”

No further explanation was necessary. Paden’s own clan in Skye had been under constant threat from the strongest clan in the Highlands. The Campbells, just the uttering of the name made his jaw clench.

At the high board sat the laird, his wife and the visitors. Paden refused to look for the laird's niece. The pretty lass had been bold in taking notice of him, which could prove to be disastrous for him. The last thing he needed was to garner the attention of a woman from Skye, even worse, the laird’s own niece.

It was also worrisome that one of the visiting guards thought him familiar. Thankfully the man had been too busy to question him further.

"When are the visitors leaving?" Paden asked.

Another archer shrugged. "I believe they will remain but a few days. However, it could change. The laird's brother will likely return to Skye soon, he doesna like to be away for long."

A part of him yearned to return to Skye as well, but he'd never be able to see his homeland again. Not unless he could find a way to prove his innocence for the dead he’d left behind. Other than some sort of miracle occurring, returning home would never come to be. Sometimes he considered returning even if it meant he'd be hung without question and presumed guilty.

He deserved to die. No matter the reasoning, he’d left like a coward in the night overwrought by sorrow and in that moment he’d not considered how it would appear.

One of the men said something jarring him to the present. The eating and drinking continued. Several families approached the high board to speak to the laird, taking everyone’s attention.

When everyone at the head table were engaged by a family that approached, Paden stood and stalked to the nearest doorway.

He walked from the great room to a side corridor so he could leave through a rear doorway and avoid running into anyone.

"Paden Fraser?" A female voice made him stop. A cool hand rested on his arm and he turned to who ever it was.

From the shadows, a maid peered up at him. "Aye I am Paden. What happens?"

"My lady asked me to find ye and ask that ye meet her at the side garden. She will head there shortly."

"Who is yer lady?" Although he suspected, Paden asked hoping for a different answer.

"Lady Emma," the maid replied curtly. Obvious the maid did not approve of her lady's assignation with a mere blacksmith.

"Tell her..." Paden was about to ask the maid to tell her mistress he would not go, but thinking more on it, he decided it was best to meet with the woman and put a stop to the nonsense. It was not something new. He was aware most men would consider it a blessing to be as handsome. However, his bonnie face was often the reason Paden found himself in unpleasant predicaments.

"Tell Yer mistress I will be there. Please ensure she is not followed," he told the woman who swallowed visibly and nodded when he moved closer looming over her.

"Very well, I will." By her wide-eyed expression, the maid found him intimidating.

He stalked to the garden and scowled into the darkening sky. Why did he always end up in these situations? Whatever the lass wished to speak of, he'd find a way to be curt while somehow managing to not be disrespectful. Spoiled women of station could be vengeful.

Just a few moment’s later, soft footfalls sounded and Paden crossed his arms waiting for the lass to appear. He refused to move from where he stood even though he heard her stumble and curse softly. He wanted to laugh when she huffed. "Mr. Fraser, I cannot see. Are ye out here?"

He stepped out from where he leaned on a wall. "I am." Once again he crossed his arms and stood with his legs spread. "What is it that ye wish to speak with me about Lady Emma?"

For a moment she blinked as if shocked by his curt tone. "Is it true ye are a cruel and hard man?"

"It is not my job to be friendly my lady. I prefer to keep people at a distance. I am not cruel however."

She walked closer and for an instant Paden almost lowered his guard. "Lady Emma, I must ask that ye refrain from seeking me out."

Instead of unease, she seemed intrigued. "What if I told ye, I'd like to get to know ye?"

Her direct gaze pinned him and Paden couldn't formulate words. Something was different about the woman. A strange pull to her was hard to fight, but somehow he managed. "It would be a bad idea Lady McNeil. A huge mistake, especially with someone of my lower station."

She nodded and bit her bottom lip in thought. “I know I am being bold Mr. Fraser, but I feel as if fate has brought ye to me.” When he started to turn away, she reached and touched his forearm.

A chill crawled up to his chest and a curse left his lips at his reaction to her touch. “Lady Emma, don’t.”

"Perhaps. Think on it.” She interrupted. “Ye can remain here at least one more day. I will send ye word of where to meet me again."

"I won't come." Paden kept his eyes locked with hers. "I am not some sort of toy for ye to use at will Lady Emma."

Her lips curved drawing his attention to the enticing view. "No?"

He let out a slow breath. "No."

"We will see Mr. Fraser. What fate sets to happen cannot be denied." She hurried away instantly disappearing into the darkness.

Paden waited a few moments before walking to the guard's house to seek his bed. There was much work to be done the next day; hopefully.

Lying on the cot, Paden stared at the ceiling in his small room. On the cot across from him a guard snored loudly, obviously the man had just completed his shift and would rather sleep than eat.

What was he going to do to avoid Emma? She had to be dissuaded and he had to find a way to do it.

It had been an event filled day. The Laird's niece took notice of him and wasted no time in her pursuit, the farmer demanding Paden marry his daughter and one of the guards from Skye found him familiar.

If he were truly a smart man the best thing would be to leave Moriag during the cloak of darkness and not look back.

Chapter Four

"Emma dear, did ye hear me?" Her mother's voice snapped her out of her musings as she stood by the window peering down into the courtyard. From her perch, she had a perfect view of the stables where smoke wafted though the roof. He'd worked steadily all day long. It was a wonder to her how the man could continue the steady pace of making horseshoes while instructing men to assist with the horses.

He was a haunting reminder of her young love who'd died so many years earlier. Instantly upon thinking of Larkin, her chest constricted. She missed not only him, but his easygoing nature and quick wit.

“We must find ye a suitable husband. Do not forget Emma. Tis one of the reasons ye will be here for a season.”

At three and twenty, she’d managed to avoid marriage. At three and twenty, she was well past her time to marry and her parents were losing patience. Not that she’d buried her heart with Larkin, but she continued to wait for someone who would make her feel as cherish.

"Emma?" This time her mother came closer. "Whatever is the matter?"

Emma shrugged. "Did ye see him? The blacksmith?"

"Aye I did. As soon as ye saw him, yer countenance changed. Upon noting his features, I knew why he affected ye so." Her mother pulled her close. "Because he has a striking resemblance to Larkin does not mean he will be the same sweeting. Besides, the man is but a blacksmith, not a laird's son."

"I know."

Her mother pulled her from the window. "Yer father and I leave two days hence. Do not make me worry. Promise me, ye will stay away from the man. He will take yer constant regard the wrong way. Larkin is dead. Nothing nor no one can bring him back my sweet."

“I cannot help it. My heart hurts when I see the blacksmith and yet, I cannot stop watching him.”

Her mother let out a long sigh of understanding.

Her aunt entered. “There is much to do to prepare for last meal.”

They joined her aunt to discuss plans for the following night's festivities. At the thought of music and dancing, Emma's mood lightened. Perhaps she could get the man, Paden to dance with her. For a few moments, she could pretend he was Larkin.

No she was mad. It was a most horrible idea. Her mother was right. If she pursued him, he would take is like a open invitation for more than just a dance. How to explain to him?

She continued to ponder what was best until her mother pulled her back into the conversation. Emma pretended not to notice the pointed look her mother gave her.

At the evening meal, the blacksmith was not present. Every time someone entered the room, Emma searched to see who it was. Mealtime was coming to an end he had yet to appear.

It was for the best that he did not make an appearance. She was torn. A part of her wished to hear him speak, to see if he sounded like Larkin. And although she’d stopped longing for Larkin a long time ago, a part of her remembered how special he’d made her feel.

There was a ruckus and several soldiers entered laughing and slapping each other on the back. Her uncle watched the procession with curiosity before going to join the men.

It was then she noticed Paden Fraser. He was among the latecomers. The guard Dugan regaled her uncle with what seemed to be a comical by the laird laughed and touched Paden’s shoulder, seeming to congratulate him on something.

She noted that throughout the revelry, Paden remained reserved, his smile almost reluctant.

Her uncle motioned for tankards and lifted his, getting the entire room's attention. "Here ye! Today we have someone among us who has brought Lasitor, the headstrong horse to heel! All raise yer tankards to Paden Fraser, the blacksmith!"

The men drank and cheered while Emma looked to her aunt. "What is that all about?"

Her aunt watched the goings on with amusement. "Yer uncle bought a horse several months ago. The animal is horrible, allows no one near. It has never been ridden, much less shoed." She chuckled. "Men are such boys at heart. I suppose it means Paden managed to either ride it or shoe it."

Her aunt shrugged. "Whatever it is, my husband is quite pleased."

The murmurs died down and everyone returned to their meal.

Emma’s father looked on with approval, but then losing interest began to eat. One of her father's guards neared and leaned into his ear.

"Although his last name is Fraser, does he not look like a MacLeod? I would wager he is a son of the laird. The one that disappeared years ago."

Her father's gaze immediately traveled to where Paden now sat. "Aye I see the resemblance. However, I am sure this man is from Moriag, therefore cannot possibly be a MacLeod."

The guard took his leave. Emma looked to her father. "Why do ye really think the McLeod’s son disappeared?"

"Only he knows for sure. Some say out of guilt for killing his brother. Others believe he was taken prisoner and killed as well."

She'd heard whispers of Stuart McLeod, a great warrior, who'd never been bested in battle. The first born of Laird MacLeod had been formidable with the sword and bow.

The stories of his disappearance varied. Some believed he'd left from the grief of his brother's death after being attacked and other stories said he'd killed him. There was also a third story that because he was so handsome, he was taken and sold.

Emma studied the bearded blacksmith, the stern man now sat with her uncle’s guards, his head bent low over a food trencher.

Could it be? Was it possible Paden Fraser was indeed Stuart McLeod?

As if sensing her regard, he lifted his gaze and met hers. A shudder went through her, not because she felt a sense of recognition, no, it was very different. In the pools of his dark brown eyes, she saw something closer to hatred.

Paden rose early the next morning and immediately began packing his equipment so he could saddle his steed and return to town. If all went as planned he'd be home by the time everyone rose. He'd noticed the constant regard by one of the visiting laird's guards. Regardless of growing a beard, his McLeod features were hard to hide for long, if someone took a close look they’d see him for who he truly was.

The night before at last meal, the same man had gone to the laird and spoken into his ear. Both had studied him for a long moment before the laird had dismissed the guard. To avoid more scrutiny, he'd slipped out before more happened.

He yawned and stretched. Between being anxious about being recognized and the green eyes that haunted him all night, he’d not slept well at all.

Lady Emma had kept a constant study of him and he wondered if perhaps she too now suspected his true identity. The fear of returning to face his past, to be recognized and discovered was so great he'd hated all of them at one point. It was not their fault of course that they came from Skye. Especially not the beautiful lass, but at the same time she was interested in him, and that put him in a difficult position.

On the other hand, if he rebuffed Emma, she could lie to her father and bring punishment down on him. Laird’s daughters could sometimes be spoiled and impulsive.

It was a hard situation to be in. If he was stupid enough to respond to her attempts at seduction and it was discovered, it was certain the laird would demand his head.

The peace he’d found in Moriag was disappearing like the mists when the sun rose and he didn’t like it one bit. Paden groaned in annoyance and continued with the task at hand. The quicker he returned to the village, the better

At remembering what awaited him back at the village with Hay, he grunted. There was the matter of the farmer's daughter. It was best to leave Moriag and travel further south to the lowlands. He would take what coins he’d been saving and begin anew.

The morning was cool and Paden shivered as he washed his face from a water barrel and pulled his tunic on over his head. Next he donned his overcoat and smoothed it down past his thighs. After fastening a leather belt about his waist and slipping his sword into the scabbard, he prepared to mount.

He was yanked back by the shoulder as he lifted his foot. The fast jerk back made him stumble backward and he swung blindly connecting a punch to a man's face. The man who he recognized as the visiting laird's guardsmen, who’d approached him the day before, punched back but missed when Paden shifted sideways.

"What do ye want?" Paden moved back from the startled horse. "If ye are looking for a fight, ye will have one."

The man spit out blood and then narrowed his eyes at Paden. "I know who ye truly are. I am willing to bet Laird McLeod will pay a handsome price for yer bonnie head."

Although his gut clenched, he didn't react. Ensuring to keep a bland expression Paden let out a grunt. "I have no idea what ye speak of. But I do know ye will get out of my way before I am forced to draw my sword."

The guard's eyes shifted. Everyone knew Stuart McLeod was a force to be reckoned with. Until his disappearance, he’d never been bested in battle. "Ye are the McLeod's son are ye not?"

"I am not. I have been told I favor the McLeod's of Skye, but other than perhaps being a bastard son, I am not related."

His explanation seemed to appease the guard who lowered his shoulders. "I am not sure whether to believe ye or not." After a long look, the man turned and walked away.

Paden stood without moving. If he left the clan lands now, it would make them suspicious and they could send men after him. He was forced to remain in Moriag at least until the visitors left. After, he'd steal away from there, start a new life elsewhere. He'd saved enough coin and although it had taken much work and investment to purchase the stables from old man Angus, now he'd have to relinquish it all.

Exhaustion formed at the fact he'd have to keep running, keep moving and never have a stable life. Although he was born a warrior, he was not a nomad, had always preferred the familiar, steadfastness of knowing where he belonged.

Just as he was about to mount again, Dugan appeared and he let out a resigned sigh. "Aye Paden, what happened with the guard?"

"A misunderstanding." He reached for his horse. "I am going home."

"Ye cannot. The laird has asked that ye remain for tonight's festivities. And he wishes to speak to ye regarding the wild horse."

Shoulders falling, he looked toward the gates. If only he’d risen earlier and left.

“Very well.”

Resigned Paden removed his horse's saddle and rounded the animal to put it away. He then went to where he'd spent the night and placed his belongings on the small cot. After that, he guided the horse to a corral releasing the animal to graze.

Leaning against a post, Paden scanned the area where he worked and made a mental note to gather some needed items. If he was to remain, he’d keep busy.

Just then two of the local guardsmen walked over. “Let us go break our fast Paden,” one of them frowned toward the man he’d argued with. “If ye need any help we are on yer side.”

Resigned to the fact he would not escape continued scrutiny he may as well make the best of it. Paden walked along with the men as they discussed what chores were to be done that day. “I will be in the stables bring your swords for me to sharpen.”

“Ay Paden,” Dugan caught up to him. “I will collect swords after the meal and bring them to ye.”

“Very well,” Paden replied, glad to have work to keep him busy that day.

He held up a hand. “I will follow you shortly.” He decided it was best to avoid the main entrance and instead go through the side door when his presence would be less noticeable.

When he walked into the dim interior, movement made him look down a corridor.

Lady Emma shoved away from someone and turned toward him, she looked about to cry.

Instantly fury rushed through his veins and he clenched his jaw before stalking forward. Whoever hurt her would die. He pulled a dagger from his side strap and advanced. His eyes locked to her for a moment and then past to where whoever it was disappeared into the shadows.

She didn't see him right away, not until he was upon her. Her shiny eyes met his. “Allow me past. Ye should turn around as well.”

"Step aside. I will kill whoever accosted ye Lady Emma.” He looked past her to the now empty hallway. “Who was it? Tell me immediately.”

When she threw herself against his chest and began to cry and her arms circled his waist, he had no choice but to hold her.

Emma’s soft body against his felt so familiar, so perfect. Paden closed his eyes and inhaled the floral fragrance of her hair. For a moment nothing existed but her. The soft curves of her body so right against him even as she wept. It took all of Paden’s will power to not succumb to his body’s urgings for more. To pull her close and claim her mouth with his would be like a dream come true. Why she called to him and his body came alive at the sight of her was more than he needed to ponder at the moment.

Gritting his teeth, Paden gathered as much strength as he could in considering that someone could happen upon them. “Lady Emma, ye must let me go.”

If he never let her go, Emma would die a happy woman. Paden's hard muscular chest against her ear lifted and lowered with every hard breath. His strong heartbeat resonated into her and Emma squeezed her eyes closed and clung to the rough fabric of his tunic.

She wanted to memorize every thing about the moment. The feel of his rough tunic, the hardness of his chest, his breathing and the deepness of his voice was committed to memory. He smelled of outdoors and hay, even that made her want to cry harder.

"What happens?" His deep voice echoed in her ears. "Tell me. Who accosted ye?"

It was almost as if he actually cared. Alas, no, he was an honorable man. Any of her uncle’s guard would defend her honor. How to tell him that she'd been the one to accost a poor young guard who'd been too afraid of the consequences to rebuff her advances.

All the memories had brought her to have dreams of being with Larkin. Too long had passed since she’d been with a man and she'd wanted to be touched by someone, to feel wanted and loved again.

Connor, the guard she'd tried to seduce, had been in her family's service since they'd both been children. He was a handsome man now, perhaps a year or so younger than her.

Just moments earlier, she'd followed him into the hallway and after cornering him she’d pulled his face down for a kiss. After a few moments, he'd been more than willing. It was then she'd realized the folly of her ways. It was unfair to both herself and Connor to begin any type of assignation. When she’d pushed away and apologized, Connor’s face had become bright red. Whether with anger or embarrassment she wasn’t sure. Now remorse assailed her along with the burning desire that had not left her body.

If she fell in love again, it would have to be with someone her family arranged a marriage to. She’d not try to get close to anyone other than whomever she married.

Now as she listened to Paden's heartbeat under her ear, a different concern formed. How to explain what had just happened in the corridor just as he appeared?

"I was not accosted. It was a misunderstanding that has made me very upset. The guard Connor is not just in my family's employ. He is a childhood friend. And being that we are almost like siblings we can sometimes have disagreements."

Emma was disappointed when he took her by the shoulders and stepped back. "If ye are no longer upset, then I must be on my way. Be well my lady." He turned and walked away before she could formulate a cohesive excuse to keep him longer.

She stood for a long time considering the evening ahead. Why should she deny herself? It was silly to think she’d lose her heart to a man just because she desired him.

Once again Paden's striking resemblance to Larkin and how familiar it felt to be in his arms bothered her. Perhaps she could dance with him that night and for a few moments think of how wonderful her life would be if Larkin had never died.

* * *

Angus looked up just as the farmer arrived at the stables. The bearded man's narrowed eyes went from him to the two lads who assisted with the fashioning of a sword they made for a warrior.

The man neared and looked down at the fire warming his hands.

"Where is Fraser?"

"He's gone to the McNeil keep. The laird requested his presence."

"Are ye sure he is not hiding inside?" The man leaned and peered into the stables as if Paden was hiding with a horse. He then looked toward Paden’s cottage. “Are you lying for him?”

Angus chuckled. "No I am not. Ye must consider that no man wishes to be married off against his will. I would think a lass would also not wish to marry a man who'd rather be anywhere else than with her."

"Tis a matter of honor," Farmer Hay growled and backed away. "A man must be responsible for his actions."

"Honor ye say?" Angus moved around the barrel toward the man. "What kind of a man allows his daughters to remain at the pub until the wee hours? A man who is out to get them married off is my guess."

The lads coughed to cover up laughter. Both leaned forward to see what would transpire next.

"Be glad yer are old, otherwise..." the farmer didn't finish the sentence as Angus' fist connected with his jaw sending the thick man to lie sprawled on the ground.

The farmer didn't move for a few moments as the Angus and the lads walked to where he lay and peered down on him, the lads no longer attempting to hold back grins.

Angus returned to the barrel. "Go on Hay, get away from here. I have no time for the likes of ye. Perhaps go to the pub and find that lass of yers another husband. Paden will nae be marrying her."

The farmer sat up and shook his head, his dazed eyes connecting with Angus'. "Tis not over." He said unconvincingly. "I'll return."

"See that ye do," Angus retorted. "I'll be here to give ye another lesson."

When the farmer went away Angus returned to hammering the sword with force. "Old," he mumbled. "I have more muscle in one arm than he has in his entire body." He spat on the ground and turned to the lads. "Don't just stand there, pick up a rod and make something."

Chapter Five

Frivolity was in the air. The flutes and stringed instruments mixed into lively tunes intermingling in the air with the aroma of roasted pig and spices.

Many were in attendance, the sounds of conversations flowed out into the courtyard where Paden and Dugan stood near a fire warming their hands. Even more so than usual, Dugan scowled. He watched the other guards file into the keep's interior for the evening festivities.

"Something the matter?" Paden asked his friend following his line of vision. "Did one of the guardsmen anger ye today?"

"Aye, one of the visiting McNeil's is running after Anna," he said referring to one of the maids. "Has not stopped trying to get her attention."

“Which one is Anna?”

“Lady Emma’s companion.”

Despite the heaviness of his own situation, Paden couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend's circumstance. "Have ye declared yer feelings to the lass? If not, ye cannot blame her for what happens."

"Tis not been the right time." Dugan kicked at a stone. "I do not know what to say."

"Well I cannot be the one to lecture ye on what to say.” Paden considered his life back in Skye. “I have always been a man of few words meself. Tis hard to speak to women."

Paden tried to come up with something to encourage Dugan. "Mayhaps just tell her ye wish go for a walk."

"Walk?" Dugan's eager expression made Paden wonder what else he could offer.

"Do ye really think asking her to walk will be sufficient? I've carried her baskets, and brought her sweet cakes warm from the kitchen."

Paden nodded. "I am of a thought that women need to be spoken to in a clearer fashion. Seems they do not understand men as well as we do them."

"I think ye are right friend." Dugan motioned toward the interior. "We should go inside. I'll search out Anna and see about this walking business."

The great room was hot, the air thick with a combination of smells. Some of the aromas were pleasant, others not so much. Paden maneuvered past a group of men in hopes of finding a tankard of ale.

Just then the minstrels began a new song began, and some people moved into the center to begin a dance. He hurried toward the back of the room to avoid being pulled into the melee, not wishing to be part of such thing as dancing. He'd danced before, a long time ago, but it something Paden didn't wish to ever revisit. Even if he tried, a one legged drunk man was a better dancer than he'd ever hoped to be. As far as Paden was concerned, the entire custom was ridiculous. He watched the dancers and had to admit enjoying watching women dance. It was the one time they allowed joy to take over. Twirling, the women’s were alight with happiness.

"Paden Fraser." The visiting laird gaze met his. The man watched him with interest, his hand curled around a servant's arm. When noting that Paden looked to the spot, the laird released his hold and the lass rushed away with what seemed like relief.

The man waited for him to near. "I hear good things about Ye."

Paden looked to the pitcher of ale, his throat dry. "Thank ye laird."

"Come with me, I wish to have a word." The laird turned away assuming he’d follow, and went toward a side doorway.

After placing his empty cup down, Paden followed the man into a room, which turned out to be a small study.

"I hear good things about ye blacksmith," the laird repeated with narrowed eyes. "I also agree with my head guard. Yer resemblance to the McLeod's of Skye is quite strong."

"Aye I have heard that as well Laird. I'll have to travel there one day to see for myself." Paden attempted to keep his tone light. “Could be I am related.”

The laird squinted at him and lifted a lantern. "Come closer let me get a good look at ye."

The man was nearly blind and so nearsighted he could not see much farther than his own nose. Yet with almost closed eyes he studied Paden before shaking his head. "Ye look nothing like the great Stuart McLeod. That guard must be daft to think so."

Paden let out a breath hoping to be dismissed.

"The McNeil holds ye in high regard. However, I can offer ye more. Horses, a cottage and some land of yer own. Would ye consider returning with us to Skye? I find myself in need of a good blacksmith and horse handler."

"I apologize laird, but I am quite happy to remain here in Moriag." He gave a low bow and moved back to the door. "If that is all my laird."

The laird chuckled, "I am not one to keep a young man from a dance. Very well, ye may go."

Emma grew tired of discreetly searching the room for Paden. The blacksmith was nowhere to be found. He'd not come tonight. Just as well, one of them had to have a clear head and she certainly wasn’t. She certainly was having a horrible time keeping from looking for him.

Two visiting lairds from adjoining lands were in attendance. Both had arrived with their wives. Laird Tarl Gordon was married to Emma’s cousin Allison. Along with the visiting families there were also several men who'd no doubt come in hopes of meeting her. Everyone wanted the chance to marry a Laird’s daughter.

Allison nudged her. "Why the sour disposition? It seems most unlike ye."

"I apologize. I haven't felt well today.” She scowled at a particular man who studied her like a prized horse. “All they do is gawk.”

Her cousin giggled. “Tis true, most annoying.”

“Come cousin let us join the dance." She pulled Allison to the center of the room and joined the other women in a spirited dance that soon had her smiling in glee.

Just as she whirled, a dark figure near the door got her attention. Whoever it was remained in the shadows. Allison looked in the direction of the door as well and frowned. She bent forward and whispered into Emma’s ear.

"That is my husband's friend and newly knighted Gavin McDonnell. Yer father wishes to introduce him to ye for a possible match."

Her heart thumped as she strained to get a look at the man. "How long have ye known about this?" She hissed back at her cousin.

"Just earlier today. I overheard a conversation between he and yer da." Allison looked over her shoulder toward the man who emerged and was now making his way to where the lairds sat.

Tall, with hair dark as midnight and a stern face, he was handsome. However when his gaze traveled over the room all she could sense was a disturbing feeling the man was looking for someone. His gaze hesitated on her for just a moment before moving past.

He looked for someone else.

They went in a circle again until finally facing one another. “I don’t wish to marry him,” Emma hissed into her cousin’s ear.

“I though ye’d be pleased.” Allison replied sliding a look toward McDonnell. “He is fair of face and well built.”

The song ended and Emma hurried from the center to the back of the room. Hopefully she could make it to the kitchens and find something to drink. Also from there she could keep an eye on McDonnell and see what he was doing.

Just as she darted into a darkened corridor, she spotted Paden leaning on the wall watching the festivities with a hooded look of someone who wished to be anywhere but there.

Emma neared and touched his arm.

When he turned there was a brief moment of warmth. "My lady."

“I know I am behaving in the most unbecoming manner. And yet, it seems I cannot stop from seeking ye out.” Emma could not think of what else to say. No doubt he’d think her words those of a silly spoiled girl.

He shocked her by placing his hands on her shoulders. "My lady, there can never be anything between us. Ye know full well this could only cause problems for me."

His words, although true, cut deeply, why did she persist in this? Emma straightened her shoulders and nodded. "I know. It's silly for me to..."

Without warning, his mouth took hers with so much hunger Emma clutched his shoulders almost crying with relief when his strong arms surrounded her.

The pressure of his lips over hers made her knees weak. The beard and mustache tickled but she barely noticed. It was what she’d wanted to know what it would be like to be kissed by him. She parted her lips allowing his tongue to probe into her mouth and she pressed her tongue to it. He tasted of ale.

She raked her hands through his hair, the tresses soft and thick.

Every so slowly, he slid his mouth from hers to press a kiss to the corner of her lips and released her.

Paden locked gazes with her as he gently pushed back.

“Good night Lady Emma. I beg ye. Never seek me again.”

His darkened eyes held her gaze. “Promise me.”

“I cannot.”

“Ye must.”

Not waiting for another reply, he stalked away.

Chapter Six

The announcement was the second shock of the night. No sooner had Emma floated back into the room, her mind awhirl with what had just happened with Paden, did her maid grab her and bring her to where her father and mother waited.

“Gavin McDonnell,” her father stated as if by just stating the name, she would come to a revelation. ““He asks for yer hand and I think it would be a good match.”

The statement made her grit her teeth.

“Ye have not agreed as yet have ye?”

She slid a glance toward the man in question. Gavin sat at the high board with her uncle looking over the proceedings of the night, as if above from it all. She’d always hated sitting up there, as if holding oneself above the others in the room.

To be fair, her father and uncle usually ate with his men, rarely sitting at the high board unless it was a formal affair as this night.

She studied her presumed to be husband. He was broad-shouldered, a pleasant rugged face, and masculine to be sure. The one thing that didn't waiver was the coldness in his eyes. Seeming to sense her regard, he looked at her, meeting her gaze.

She tore her gaze away and back to her father. “Would ye please give me time to become accustomed to the idea? We’ve only just arrived.”

“Ye are of age Emma. Too much longer and we willna find ye a husband,” her mother said shaking her head. “I agree with yer father, tis time to get ye married.”

“Please, just allow me time to get to know him a bit before ye agree. We may not be suited at all.”

Her father’s eyes narrowed at her lips. “Do not do something rash young lass. I will be watching ye. We will give McDonnell a reply before leaving.”

“Come let us dance again,” Allison exclaimed. She rushed to her and tugged Emma back to dance. Her cousin saved her from being forced to approach the high board. Emma wanted to hug Allison and thank her for the reprieve. Not that she had a choice in the matter of who’d she’d marry of course. However, it was good that her parents were fair and would give her a day or two to consider things.

Pipers played a lively jig and in spite of what happened, Emma found herself twirling with the other women. They clapped and turned again, their feet making fast work along with the rhythm of the music.

She could sense Paden’s gaze, or perhaps imagined it as each time she managed to look to where Paden stood with another guard, he was not looking at her. It was best she forget her infatuation with the handsome blacksmith and the wonderful kiss.

Especially when her father would no doubt announce that she'd be betrothed shortly.

Emma lost her footing and giggled and once again fell into step.

When the song ended, her face was flushed and breathing ragged.

“Let us go for fresh air,” Allison said lacing her arm through Emma’s.

As soon as they arrived outside, Emma looked up at the starry sky. “Tis a beautiful night. I wish things would never change.”

“Tis a strange thing to wish for,” Allison replied looking up as well. “Why do ye wish it?”

Emma sighed. “I am not ready to marry. I do not think I ever will be. Other than loving someone at only five and ten, I have yet to have feeling for a man in that manner.”

Marriage to a total stranger, one who'd take her away from her home didn't sit well with her. Although she'd been prepared all her life for the eventuality of it, the reality was quite frightening.

Her cousin took her hands as they entered the garden. Allison’s pretty face was flushed from dancing, her blue eyes bright. “I donnae think most of us are ready for it. But it’s our destiny.”

"Ye married for love," Emma told her cousin, pulling her away from the doorway as to not be overheard. "What would ye do in my place? I am not sure I like him."

“Do ye mean Gavin? I am sure he is a good man.” Her cousin stole a glance over her shoulder toward the doorway. "I hear Gavin McDonnell is most stern, but not cruel. He is handsome and wellborn. I think ye'll come to care for him."

"He lives far from Skye. I won't like that at all." She hated the pitch in her voice, feeling quite childish. "I know tis expected of me, but I feel the urge to run away from here."

"I understand ye. I put off being married off for a long time. Thankfully father was rather patient with me." Allison’s warm gaze met hers. "I advise ye accept this choice as we are about the same age. It's time for a family of yer own."

"Aye, I know." Dejected, she took a breath and pushed her shoulders back. She could not put it off any longer. Her parents had been patient with her as well.

Lingering as much as possible, she finally could not put off returning to the great room any longer.

Allison hurried to find her husband as Emma hesitating her gaze on the high board where McDonnell remained.

When she took a step forward, a warm hand stopped her and she turned, shocked to find Paden looking down on her. "I hear ye are about to become betrothed."

Her heart beat erratically at being so close to him. "Aye I will be."

"I should congratulate ye then milady."

"Don't call me that. It...It doesn't feel right."

His eyes bore into hers, the familiarity sending chills down her back. "Ye are so much like him. I feel as if I am seeing a ghost." She covered her mouth with both hands to keep from saying more.

Paden didn't reply, instead he looked past her to the high board. "Enjoy yer night Lady Emma." He walked away, but not before she saw something in his tight expression. "Was it anger?"

Of course he thought her a harlot for seeking him out earlier. How to explain that she’d only just learned about the betrothal? Did it even matter at this point?

Upon arriving at her seat, Gavin stood and bowed low. “Lady Emma, how fare ye?”

“Very well,” Emma replied allowing him to put the chair back for her. “Tis a lively night.”

He looked across the room, his gaze moving until hesitating at a table where several women sat. “Everyone is enjoying the music.”

It struck Emma as odd that he kept his attention away from her.

“Gavin?”

Finally he turned and faced her with a brow lifted in question.

“Why would ye want to marry me? Tis obvious ye are quite distracted and by the way women regard ye, it would be easy to find a wife.”

He seemed to consider her question, his gaze traveling over her face. “I find ye quite beautiful Lady Emma. I traveled here to meet ye.”

“And at first seeing me wished to marry?” She couldn’t help but jest. “Tis extraordinary.”

The corner of his lips lifted. “Tis time for me to take a wife. Ye are a laird’s daughter and my family wishes connections with the McNeil.”

“However, my uncle has no daughter.”

“Aye.”

He was refreshingly honest. However, once again his attention was back at the table where the women sat. One in particular lifted her gaze up to them constantly. Emma had to hide her smile. If the woman and Gavin were interested in each other, it could be the way out of the betrothal.

* * *

The night had become quite dark, the moon covered by clouds as Paden stalked toward the stables with purpose.

This time he would not be stopped. He'd go back to the village to the new life he'd set for himself.

Never did he consider how much kissing Emma McNeil would affect him. Moments earlier he’d finally realized the true reason why she sought him out constantly. She’d known Larkin. Not only that, she had to be the lass his brother had been infatuated with.

How could it be? If she had truly been Larkin's love? How could he ever forgive himself for kissing her or worse feeling strongly about her.

Of all the times to have an emotional pull toward a woman, this was the worst timing for it.

Images of the horrible day flashed before him and Paden closed his eyes and hung his head in defeat.

The battle cry interrupted the quite ride that afternoon. Stuart and Larkin had been discussing where to camp for the night when the thunder of hooves vibrated the ground.

A band of six men held swords in the air as they raced closer.

“Hide! Run!” Stuart screamed. Although a good fighter, Larkin was too young, not yet ready to fight the kind of men who rode at top speed toward them.

He recognized the plaid colors. They were from an enemy clan. Probably out to rob them of the taxes they’d collected so far.

His brother had refused to hide and instead he fought valiantly, maiming several attackers before one man struck him from behind. The piercing of the broadsword, straight through from his back to chest, had killed Larkin instantly.

Larkin had not made a single sound, but slumped face first onto the ground.

Unable to keep from allowing rage to take over, Stuart screamed and attacked the two he fought with vigor. His sword slashed across both, sending them backward. One fell lifeless to the ground while the other swayed, barely able to hold up his sword. With a final swoosh of the sword Stuart sliced the man’s throat.

Two men fled as Stuart hurried to grab his brother's lifeless body, hoping he was wrong in recognizing death and Larkin lived.

His brother was not breathing, his lifeless unseeing eyes open.

For a long time, he remained on his knees, the pain of loss unbearable. His brother was everything to him. His friend and companion, Larkin had always been the one to accompany him, following Stuart since childhood asking countless questions.

How would he face his parents now? He’d failed as a brother and protector.

Barely able to see past the muck, blood and tears, Stuart lifted Larkin carefully and draped his brother’s body across the horse’s back. Once that was complete, his tied straps across the saddle and Larkin’s body to ensure he stayed on. Wiping tears form his face, he smacked the animal’s bottom so it would head back to the familiarity of the keep.

The entire trip as they traveled their father's lands to collect taxes, Larkin spoke non-stop of an Emma. About how he’d made how he would marry her once they spoke to both sets of parents. According to Larkin, he’d promised the lass they’d marry. With a wide grin, his brother had asked Stuart’s opinion as to whether or not their parents would approve.

Overcome by grief, Paden did not want to face his family. It was to be the first time he’d ever been bested in battle. They’d bested him by killing his younger brother.

Too riddled with sorrow, and unable to face his loved ones to admit he'd failed them, Paden had mounted his steed rode until his horse refused to go further. Every day after that he went farther and farther away until ending up in Moriag.

He was aware of what was said, for travelers often came to the tavern and spoke of the tragic loss of the McLeod brothers. Many considered him a coward, some a hero. It matter little to him what people thought.

His only regret was the pain his absence must have caused their parents.

In the years since leaving Skye, Paden learned to fight better. He’d become even faster, better. Vengeance for his brother’s death was completed. He'd tracked down the two last men who'd attacked that day. Both were dead now.

Shaking the musings from his head, Paden let out a long breath. What did it matter? Nothing did really, except perhaps getting away from Emma McNeil.

He was no longer the young warrior who’d allowed his brother to be slain. He was Paden Fraser a common blacksmith.

Along with Larkin, Stuart McLeod, had died on that fate filled day.

Chapter Seven

“Ye cannot go milady,” her maid whispered wringing her hands. “Yer father will not only punish ye, but me as well.”

Emma huffed. “I am merely planning to travel to visit my cousin. What is wrong with that?”

Her maid’s narrowed eyes made her fidget. “Ye plan to seek out the blacksmith. Lady Emma, we both know tis folly. He can never be yers.”

“I know.” She slumped into a chair. “What can I do? I cannot stop thinking of him. His face, his kiss haunts me every moment.”

“I understand. Ye were young when last in love and it wasn’t more than infatuation. This time, ye are a woman and should know the difference.”

With and outstretched hand, she pulled the maid down to sit next to her. “It is different, I promise ye. At first yes, his likeness to Larkin attracted me. But now...” she hesitated unsure exactly what to say since it was hard to explain even to herself.

“Now I feel as if we are meant to be. As if fate brought us together for a reason.”

The maid nodded. “What are ye going to do? He left and returned to the village. There cannot possibly be any excuse to allow ye to go there.”

Her lips curved. “Of course there is. A visit to my dear cousin Allison.”

The maid shook her head but said nothing further.

Emma however smiled widely. “Tomorrow we go the village.”

* * *

The next day turned out to be one of the most pleasant. Emma and her cousin along with her maid went to the village square to purchase fruit, bread and flowers. They ate at the local pub and walked to the church to attend a midday service.

All the time, Emma kept an eye out for Paden, noting where the stables were and the cottage just beyond it.

“I will spend the night at the inn,” she announced to her cousin. “I need time alone to gather my thoughts on what I should do. I don’t wish to marry Gavin McDonnell and must find a way to either talk him or my parents out of it.”

Her cousin’s lips pressed together and her eyelids fell. “I’m so sorry Emma. From the way ye react, I am convince ye love another. I pray however that over time ye fall in love with yer husband and he with ye.”

“There isn’t anything I can do to stop it, is there?” The question did not need answering, for once her father accepted the McDonnell’s request for her hand, her fate was sealed.

Even though her parents would be cross at her for staying away for the night. They’d not come looking for her. Nonetheless, she paid for one room for herself and the maid and settled in for the rest of the evening.

Her cousin didn’t question her reason for not coming to stay at her home. It was obvious Allison understood Emma had some sort of plan.

A few hours later, Emma was surprised how easy it was to get out of the inn that night. Once the maid slept soundly in the narrow bed next to hers, Emma slipped from the bed and donned her cloak.

As if in a trance, her mind warring with her body, she hurried past several cottages toward the stables. What she was about to do could have irreversible effects. However at the moment all reason left, her body hummed with need for the first time in many months.

Emma slipped past the village stables toward Paden’s cottage, barely able to catch her breath. Her heart hammered in her ears until breathing became ragged and shallow.

There was no going back now; she'd come this far. If he rejected her, then it was for the best. She deserved no better, coming after a man in the middle of the night, like a common whore.

Yet at the same time, she had to do it. Needed to experience making love with Paden before marrying a man of her parent’s choosing.

It was a frigid night, the coldness seeping through her cloak making her shiver. When she arrived near Paden’s cottage, Emma stepped on the cloak’s hem and stumbled. She cursed and yanked the heavy garment about her, irritated at the damn thing's length.

The front door was unlocked, which was strange. Only a man would sleep with his door unlatched.

In that moment however she was thankful that she didn’t have to knock. And yet surely the man did not expect someone to just enter. If she startled him, Paden could think he was under attack.

Ever so slowly, she cracked the door open, peered in.

He slept soundly, his face turned toward her, soft snores filling the small space. Moonlight slipped through the window and fell over the bed and his body. She inhaled sharply at the sight of his uncovered muscular chest.

Emma opened the door just a bit more and slipped in. When Paden stirred, she stopped midstride. Now what exactly was she supposed to do? Undress and climb in the bed?

No that would be much too bold.

Perhaps clear her throat while undressing to stir him? Again that plan sounded as absurd as the first.

Emma let the cloak slip from her shoulders to the floor and then glanced around. Mayhap she could pose seductively on a chair and make soft noises until he woke.

Grabbing the chair, she dragged it a few inches, but then stopped the scrapping noise. It would not be romantic for him to wake and find her dragging a chair.

Seduction was difficult.

"Are ye planning to redecorate my home or get into my bed?" His raspy sleepy voice startled her and she let out a yelp.

"Oh. I woke ye did I?"

"Before ye walked in I heard ye cursing yer cloak." He lifted to one elbow causing the blankets to slip down to his hips. Of course her gaze went along with them.

"Oh yes. Well ye see I came to talk to ye...about something important..."

With mussed hair and sleepy eyes, it was hard to control her breathing as she scrambled with what to say. This seduction was not proceeding at all like she’d imagined.

“I came because...” When his lips curved, she stopped all together.

"When a woman comes to a man in the middle of the night discussion is not what she's after." His accent reminded her of Skye, the lilt in his deep voice lulled her to take a step forward.

"Ye are correct." It was now or never, there was no turning back and although in the morning she would probably regret it all, Emma would not retreat now.

With unsteady fingers, she unfastened the lacings to her top and removed it, not caring where it fell. Next her skirts and shift, each item dropped at her feet, until she stood bare as the day she was born before him.

Paden's gaze roamed over her and he held out his hand. "Come Lady Emma, it's cold. As delightful as it is to see yer beauty by the moonlight, I would not want ye to catch a cold."

She accepted his hand and he shifted over making room for her to join him. She shivered either from the cold or the touch of his skin. Perhaps a combination.

“Why did ye come? Tis not a good idea,” he whispered against her ear despite the fact no one could hear.

“I felt compelled to. I want ye more than anything.”

“This is not. Only trouble will come...”

She stopped his words by pressing against him and kissing him.

At once his mouth took her, the hunger unmistakable, matching hers in every way.

While his lips and tongue discovered her lips and mouth, he explored her body with his hands. Emma trembled when his rough palm cupped her breast and his thumb circled her taut peak. She let out a gasp at his mouth replacing it.

Paden took his time, exploring her body, he slid his tongue from one breast to the other while his right hand slipped down past her hips to cradle her bottom. Pulling her against his hardness, allowing her time to feel how much he desired her.

“Are ye sure about his?” The hoarseness in his voice told how hard he fought against taking her fully. “I ask that ye push away and leave or I cannot stop.”

It would be the wise thing to do, to leave and pretend nothing ever happened. Emma’s took a deep breath doing her best to ignore the demands of her body.

What if she did leave? Would she regret it? Or would she regret giving herself fully to Paden, a man who would in all probability she’d never see again once leaving Moriag?

“I want ye to take me. I want to be yers this night,” she replied pressing kisses to the dip in his throat. “Please.”

With a guttural groan, Paden pushed Emma to her back and covered her body with his. His gaze locked to hers, he pushed her legs apart, and slid his fingers up her inner thigh until reaching the apex. Circling her tight bud gently, he watched intently as she began to writhe.

“Oh.” A sweet heat filled her and she lifted her hips from the bed unable to find a way to squelch it.

In a daze she held her breath as he nudged at her entrance, his thick erection pressing firmly until slipping in.

Paden's movements were smooth and perfect. With every stroke she flew higher and higher until she feared the fall.

Thrust after thrust he drove in and pulled out until the sounds of skin hitting skin and their moans filled the room.

Just when Emma thought she could take no more, Paden reached between them and stroked her bud. Instantly, it was as if she burned from head to toe, but not in pain, something completely different.

And then it came, a bright light behind her eyes joined by tingles traveling from the center of her body to every extremity. Emma cried out as she shattered into pieces and floated up into a wonderful haze.

Paden’s hoarse cry of release permeated through the fog of her release. His entire body became taut as he pulled out and spilled his seed onto the bedding.

Collapsing partially over her, he watched her without expression. “I hope I did not hurt ye.”

“No, I am well.” It was an understatement. She wished never to leave the shelter of his arms.

She kissed his lips and he responded. This kiss was sweet and gentle.

* * *

It had been six days since the night Paden would never forget. He'd remained at the stables at the village working long hours.

In spite of his sour mood, Angus came by daily to help and cook. The old man, it seemed, had missed him while he'd been at the McNeil keep.

"Aye Paden," Angus called out one morning. "What says ye? Should I go with ye to help at the games?"

"Could definitely use yer help. T'will be hard to compete and help with the horses. Perhaps the lads would like to come as well."

At the statement, two heads popped up. The lads, stood wide-eyed awaiting confirmation of what Paden had said.

Angus made shooing motions with both hands. "The horses won't feed 'emselves. Go on, git to work and hurry to pack yer tools. Ye will be going to the games."

With broad grins the gangly young men hurried to do as told.

"They won't be able to keep a straight head between the two of 'em," Angus grumbled. His annoyance was belied by a grin.

Angus produced a bag and went about to get his own horse.

Paden finished packing up his tools, adding his sword, scabbard, bow, quiver, and arrows. He'd spend many mornings practicing for the archery competition.

"Ye think I should shave?" Angus looked up at him once he'd mounted. "The lasses like a clean shaven man me thinks. "

"Looking for a wife old man?" Paden asked with a smile. "Ye never cease to surprise me."

Angus frowned. "Nay. Looking fer a nice soft place to lay me head."

They laughed and Paden waited for the trio to mount.

They’d stay at the temporary stables near where the games were to be held.

A large area had been cleared on Campbell lands for the games, which allowed for each laird to set up tents for their competitors. The lairds and family were hosted at the Campbell’s home.

Upon arriving half a day later, Paden dismounted and tugged his horse closer to the practice field. It was then he noted a small covered area. Under it, women sat on blankets.

"Ah, ye have arrived. Just in time," Laird Tarl Gordon, neared. Quite young for a laird and of pleasant personality, Paden found it easy to like the man.

"I'm ready to spend more time practicing with the bow today Laird."

"Ye're going to be hard to beat. Although I hear, a visitor of the Stuart’s, will be competing as well. It's said he is a very competent archer."

"Who is the visitor?" Paden asked, not really listening. He wasn't as invested in winning but he’d been sponsored by The McNeil and wished to make a good showing. His loyalty was to no clan, but he enjoyed the competition.

"Gavin McDonnell," Tarl clarified. "He is here only because he is courting Emma McNeil." The laird looked toward the tent where the woman sat.

"I thought the McNeil’s of Skye had left," Paden said hating the tightening in his chest.

Someone calling out to and the laird took a step away. "It's my turn to toss the stone. Nay Lady Emma didn't go with her parents. She is over there under the covering with my wife."

With a muffled curse, Paden forced himself to keep from looking towards where the women were. He'd take the long way around to get to where the archery targets were to avoid her.

"Courting her. If he were any good at it, she wouldn't be seeking another's bed," Paden grumbled as he guided the horse in the general direction of where men practiced with long cabers.

"Hello Paden." The voice was unmistakable. At any rate, even if he'd not recognized it, his body did. Immediately his heartbeat raced and his breathing sped.

"Lady Emma." Paden kept his reply curt, his eyes straight ahead when she rounded him. "How fare ye?"

"I've tried to find a way to speak to ye. It's been very difficult to steal away."

Paden stopped and faced Emma. It was a mistake to look at her. It seemed every day she became more beautiful. The sunlight brought out reddish highlights in her hair and her emerald darkened eyes, were almost too lovely to behold.

"What do ye mean to tell me?"

"I miss ye. I truly do," she replied, wringing her hands.

"I am not sure what ye expect of me, my lady," Paden said ensuring to keep his voice neutral. "However, be assured that what happened between us should not be repeated. As much as I enjoyed yer...company, I prefer not to have relations with a woman betrothed to another. Please leave me be."

Emma gasped and wide-eyed took a step away. "I do not wish to marry him."

"And yet ye will." Paden walked away, not caring about propriety. That the woman had managed to penetrate the shield he'd built to keep around his heart almost drove him to his knees.

The archery rounds were announced and Paden along with the rest of the competitors lined up in front of targets. Every one pretended to keep their gazes averted, while taking in the competition.

Paden joined the other archers at his appointed target, barely acknowledging greetings.

When it was his turn, he lifted an arrow from the quiver, placed it, aimed and released. The arrow hit the very center.

No matter what, Paden had to keep what little bit of dignity he had and not allow her to know how much she'd affected him. He pulled a second arrow and once again he set it.

Damn him, he was in love with Emma McNeil.

With an angry curse, he loosed an arrow toward the target and split his own. There was clapping and slaps on his back, but he didn't hear or feel any of it. The pain in his chest was the only sensation that day.

The next two days of competition, rivalry and drinking filled Paden's time. Angus and the delighted lads followed the archery competition while taking care of the horses. It was surprising the three got any work done as they spent every free moment chasing after lasses.

The evenings were filled with jovial gatherings. Minstrels wandered from group to group, playing lively music, while people ate and drank.

On the second evening, there were fires and people gathered to celebrate. Young women formed circles and danced while the men watched on, calling out their names and flirting.

A second group of women made a circle, amongst them Emma, her face bright and cheeks rosy as she whirled in circles with a happy smile on her face.

Paden scowled into his ale then searched the nearby men for her betrothed. He didn't see him. Once again Emma, whose graceful moves reminded him of their night together, took his attention.

"Takin a piss," he grumbled. "Don't drink my ale." He gave the lads one last warning look before walking to where he'd have some privacy.

The unmistakable sounds of sex made Paden move in an opposite direction. Although it was dark and hard to see, he didn't want to stumble upon the couple. When he heard the man's voice, he hesitated.

"It's always ye. Will always be ye I swear it."

"But ye're going to marry her. That spoiled little bitch Emma." It sounded as if the woman was quite upset.

"I have to. My family has made the arrangements. "It cannot be helped." The man sounded genuinely contrite.

The woman began to cry.

Moments later he emerged to find the women had stopped dancing but continued huddled in groups talking and giggling at whatever was said.

The laird stood and announced the victors of the competitions so far. Paden was called up and handed a bag of coins.

He’d won the archery competition and despite himself, he was very proud.

Laird McNeil grinned broadly. Despite the difference in stations, Paden genuinely like the man who greeted him with the enthusiasm of someone who'd drank too much already.

"Come join me. I have to yet to reward ye for winning the archery competition."

"I thank ye, but the heavy coin purse is reward enough."

“I am considering the wilding, the steed is a good gift for a champion like yerself.”

Paden admired the beautiful horse, which had yet to allow anyone else near. If it were true the laird would gift it to him, he could barely keep from jumping at the opportunity to own it. “Tis much too generous.”

“Nonsense,” McNeil replied with a wave of hand. “The beast hates everyone but ye.”

“Then I accept with much gratitude.”

Just then Gavin McDonnell neared and joined them. By the look on his face, he was not happy. Paden had bested him in the archery competition. Hopefully he’d not have to fight the man the next day in sparing.

"Aye Gavin, where have ye been? Ye missed Emma dancing." Tarl Gordon said as he too walked up.

McDonnell looked to where the women were gathered and shrugged. "The dancing does not interest me. Seems frivolous and immature."

"I will ensure to let my wife know." Tarl replied with a tight jaw. "She and Emma are enjoying themselves."

Properly chastised Gavin bowed his head. "Apologies. I find myself in a sour mood."

"Any particular reason?" Paden couldn't help but ask.

Gavin narrowed his eyes. "I do not look forward to a future event. Nor do I wish to discuss it."

Tarl lifted his tankard. "Sounds like ye need ale my friend."

"Aye, I will go in search of beverage," Gavin stalked away.

"Not a happy soon to be bride groom," Tarl commented then looked to the McNeil who shook his head.

“ He will not make a good husband for Lady Emma. I may have to disagree with my brother."

"The arrangements have been made," Paden spoke without thinking.

The laird gave him a curious look, and before he could ask anything, Paden bowed. “I will go see about my prize. Again I thank ye Laird.”

He wandered away to the stables where the horses were kept. He didn't want to see Emma, nor did he wish to sit around and listen to Angus and the lads go on about whatever dribble they spoke of.

He found the wild horse and was pleased when the animal nudged his hand expecting to be fed.

“I think yer name will be Raven, to match yer temper and coloring.” Paden chuckled when the animal shook it’s mane as if not agreeing.

There was a shuffling sound and Paden stilled.

"Lady Emma are ye sure?" A woman's voice came from the darkness. "Its very dangerous to leave now. No one will see us true, but tis so dark."

"We've already talked about this enough," Emma responded with firm sharpness. "I gave ye the choice of remaining behind."

"I couldn't possibly let ye leave alone in the middle of the night. Why anything could happen." The other woman said with a quiver in her voice. "Tis just that I'm a bit scared."

Emma was impulsive. It was a trait that had gotten her in trouble more times than she wished to count. However, it was time to return to Skye and get away from the current situation.

“If I go to my uncle as ask to return home, he will insist that I remain for the season. Guards will not be provided and therefore, I’d still have to leave without escort.”

Of course she was as nervous as her maid, Anna, but it was now or never. She’d secured enough funding to allow them to purchase fare on a boat back to the Isle.

She’d mentally calculated that if they'd ride just a few hours, they would arrive at her maid’s family home. The following day they’d travel again and if they found themselves traveling at nightfall again, they'd sleep at an inn.

"I think I hear someone," Anna whispered.

They ducked behind a short stall and waited.

"There now Raven, do not fret. Ye are warm and safe here tonight. If a storm comes, it will nay harm ye."

Anna gasped and Emma smacked her arm. “Shhh.”

It was Paden. Emma let out a sigh and sunk down next to Anna to wait for him to leave.

Hopefully he'd cut the visit with the horse short.

"Is someone there?"

Emma held her breath when Anna gasped. She squeezed the maid's hand in warning.

Footsteps came closer. Then just as he was almost to where they hid another male's voice sounded.

"Ay Paden, are ye still brooding over Lady Emma?" An older man, the one from the stables had arrived. From the slight slurring he was drunk. "I say ye find another young lass and git rid o' yer troubles." The man chuckled.

Paden laughed at the old man. "Ye know that willna work Angus. As much as ye should know yer head will be heavy in the mornin'"

"True," the tipsy man replied. "Tis a good way to get over a broken heart." The drunken man burped loudly.

Broken heart? Emma frowned. Was Paden truly broken hearted over her?

She burst from where she'd been hiding.

Both Paden and the old man turn to her with shocked expressions.

Emma grabbed Paden's hand. "Run away with me. I am leaving tonight with or without ye."

Before he could reply Anna emerged from the darkness. "Aye my mistress is intent on leavin'. But I think tis a horrible idea."

Paden looked from Emma to Angus who shrugged and stumbled to where cots were.

"What is yer answer?" Emma asked her heart thundering.

Chapter Eight

"Where are ye planning to go?" Paden could only look between Emma and her maid who stared up at him with huge rounded eyes.

“Home to Skye.”

He tried to think of how to dissuade Emma without giving her hope he'd go. "I will admit the idea of leaving under the veil of darkness is a wise one. However, Ye forget that clansmen are camping all over the lands. Many have traveled long distances and will be searching for wenches to warm their beds."

Chin lifted there was challenge in her gaze. "I do not care. It shouldn't be hard to avoid camps."

"Camps with roving guards?"

With an exasperated breath she whirled away. "It would suffice for ye to just say nay. I prefer it to this conversation. Precious time is being wasted." She pulled the maid's hand. "Let us get the horse saddled so we can go."

"I must tell ye I won't allow ye to go," Paden told her bracing for what she'd do next.

"Ye cannot stop me. I must go. Ye don't understand how it is to be a woman. We have no choices. No rights."

Finally Paden closed the distance between them and took her by the arms. "Listen to reason please. I will not allow ye to go alone into the night. It would be much too dangerous. If ye insist on leaving even with my escort I cannot guarantee safe passage."

"Enough of this." Emma's eyes shined with defiance. She tugged away and grabbed a horse's reins. "Let's go Anna."

Paden let out a breath. If he left with them, his absence would be immediately noticed as he was due to compete once more in the morning. The three lairds had hedged bets on one person each, and he'd promised the McNeil to be his representative.

Not just that, but also there was the added danger of opposing clans being blamed for Lady Emma's absence. "Do ye not care that war could ensure because of yer absence?"

"What?" Emma turned to him. "Ye are trying to dissuade me. It won't work."

"When ye are found to be missing, clansmen will be questioned and some will be suspect. Eventually, someone could be blamed for absconding with ye or worse yer death. Some unfortunate man could end up hung, judged guilty."

"Confounded." She stomped her foot and groaned. "Is there no possible way for me to avoid marriage?" A tear slid down her pretty face and she wiped it away angrily. "I would rather kill myself than marry a man who loves another. I won't do it."

"There is a way," Paden told her. "We can marry secretly. I will marry ye."

The maid gasped. "Ye cannot marry her. She's a lady."

Paden waited for Emma to speak. She narrowed her eyes. "I don't believe ye."

He shrugged. "That is completely up to ye. It is an option. Ye have to admit it will stop him from marrying ye. Besides, have ye considered the fact there could be consequences to the other night. I won't have ye raising my child with someone else."

The maddening woman had the gall to laugh. She shook her head, lips curved into a smile that did not reach her eyes. "That is ridiculous. Ye spilled onto the bedding."

"Mother of God," the maid crossed herself, but continue to watch with them interest.

Emma had a point. She was a smart lass. Paden tried to come up with another delay tactic, but couldn't. Finally he waved to the open doorway. "Very well Lady Emma. I wish ye well. May God keep ye safe."

As if for the first time noticing the chill in the air, she pulled her cape closer around her shoulders. "Ye are the most maddening man."

"I could say the same for ye."

"If I stay, I could demand ye follow through on marrying me."

"I..."

Angus called out from the cot. "Others come."

Paden took Emma by the arm and guided her to a side door and outside.

Emma looked to him. "There is a plan for a betrothal celebration, albeit a small one, in two days once the games are over. I planned to be faraway by then."

Paden nodded. "I will speak to The McNeil tomorrow."

"Oh no! Ye mustn't. He will have yer hide." Emma stopped walking and pressed her hands to Paden's chest. "Don't ye see? No matter how fair my uncle, he will not accept it."

She frowned. "There must be another way. My uncle, although my warden will never allow my marriage to a blacksmith."

"I will explain. All will be fine." Paden wished he were as sure as he sounded.

"If only it were true. Don't do anything Paden. I will work it out myself. It astounds me that ye are willing to do this for me. Fortunately I am a laird's daughter and it could work and not be questioned for me to throw a tantrum and refuse to eat or come out of my chambers unless the betrothal is cancelled."

The maid walked ahead of them and Paden took advantage and held Emma back. "We need to talk more. I feel very strongly for ye Emma. Do not ever think that my offer to marry was made in haste.”

Her eyes widened. "Truly?"

He smiled. "Yes."

"I will send ye once the tournament is over. Promise not to do anything until we speak." Paden waited until she finally nodded.

"Very well."

Chapter Nine

At the village tavern, Calum McKenzie placed two tankards onto the counter for the thirsty travelers. It seemed of late more and more people traveled through Moriag. Most men headed south to join the fight against the English. A worthy cause, however in his opinion it was also a lost cause.

The English were much more advanced in their weaponry and had larger armies. It seemed whatever the crown of England wished for, was acquired without much effort.

Ships were sighted anchored but a day's ride south. Before long even Moriag could be overrun. He grunted when one of the men lifted his tankard. "Aye Calum, won't ye join us?"

"Ye waste yer time. Need to stay here and wait for the fight to reach the Highlands. Unlike the Lowlanders, we will not be easy targets." He shook his head and moved to the edge of the counter.

At a table, next to a window, a woman accompanied by her maid, sat eating. The woman kept her gaze downward, it was as if she wanted to blend into the background and not be noticed.

He noticed however that she was a beautiful creature. Unlike anyone he'd ever seen, the woman's creamy complexion contrasted with her dark hair. What captured his attention most were her beautiful eyes, the shade of fall leaves with specks of gold.

Her name was Rhona McLeod, as she’d introduced herself and he wondered why she traveled alone.

Rhona's hand trembled when she reached for her cup. After a week's travel, on the run Skye, it was too dangerous to stop and eat in public. But they'd had no recourse. Hungry and without any hunting abilities, she and her maid, Maisie were forced to come to the small village pub. Hopefully no one would think to look for her there.

After boarding their horse and paying for the food, she would barely have enough for a couple nights stay at the Inn across the village courtyard.

There were jewels sewn into both her and Masie's clothing, but it would bring unwanted attention to attempt to sell them just yet. No instead she'd move on to the next village. There she'd find a buyer for a few pieces.

Eventually she hoped to find a place to settle. The further north she could go, the better. Although she was pretty certain to have lost whoever trailed them. Even after several weeks, she was much too scared to stop.

Scanning the dim space, once again her gaze went to the bar keep. He was a large man. Brawny as her Da would say. With light brown shoulder length wavy hair and matching eyes. Despite his rather intimidating size, he moved with assured grace and whenever he spoke, his voice was deep but soft.

Now when he looked to her there was warmth. Rhona flushed when he made his way to her table. "Is everything to yer liking Miss?"

"Yes thank ye so much."

He looked to Maisie and back to Rhona. "I believe yer companion is ill with fever."

He confirmed what she'd been thinking. For two days now she'd asked Maisie how she felt, but the strong headed girl insisted nothing was wrong. Now her face was flush and her eyes dazed as she attempted to eat the soup.

"Is there a healer in the village sir?

"Calum," he told her. "Please call me Calum. And yes there is. If ye wish, I can help take her to wherever ye are stayin' and go fetch him."

"I thank ye. Yes please."

With little effort he lifted a protesting Maisie and they made their way to the Inn.

Once inside the room, he placed her upon one of the beds and turned to Rhona.

"How about ye? Do ye feel unwell?"

The already tight space seemed even smaller with his presence. "I am perfectly well. I will fetch water for Maisie while ye see about the healer. I must also pay ye for the food."

He waved her away. "No need, she barely touched hers and ye did not eat enough to charge.

As he turned to leave, she reached for his arm stopping him. "Thank ye so much Calum, Ye have no idea what this means to me. Ye are kind."

His warm gaze was followed by a slight curve at the corners of his mouth. "I will return shortly. Don't fret."

Moments later the healer motioned for Rhona to follow him out of the room. In the hallway his grave expression did not waiver. "I'm afraid she will not live much longer. The young woman can barely take a breath. Her chest is filled with fluid."

"No," Rhona covered her mouth to keep her maid from overhearing her gasps. Eyes misting, she blinked tears away.

"We are headed to her family home. There it will be safe. I have to get her there."

"Perhaps I can help." Calum had come upon them without her noticing. "Can she travel?" he asked the healer.

The healer shrugged. "It matters not. I doubt she will live longer than two, maybe three days."

When the healer left, Rhona fell against the wall and covered her face with both hands. "What should I do?"

The warmth of his large hand on her shoulder was comforting. "I meant it. If ye need help getting her home, I will take ye."

Finally God decreed to take mercy upon her. He'd sent a kind hearted man into her life.

Rhona let out a shaky breath. "I need to sleep and think. In the morning I will come and find ye with my decision."

"Very well." He lifted a basket. "My sister fixed this for ye and yer friend." There seemed to be no end to his kindness.

Once settled in the room, she watched him cross the road back toward the tavern.

In the other bed, Maisie moved. Her eyes opened and she looked to Rhona. "I'm so sorry milady. I really thought I wasn't so ill that I could not travel."

"Don't worry, we will make it to yer family home soon. Rest for now."

A single tear trailed down Maisie's cheek. "I must admit something to ye. Perhaps we should remain here. It seems like a nice village, with good people."

"What about yer family? Ye said we'd be safe there."

"I lied milady. I don't have any family. I was orphaned as a child...just said it...to give ye hope..."

Rhona could only gawk at the ill woman, who closed her eyes and seemed to fall asleep "Whatever will I do now?"

Once again she looked toward the tavern.

In the morning she'd find Calum and ask his help in selling the jewelry. After, she'd find local families and see about securing a position. Perhaps as a governess, she could teach children to read and write. Surely there was something she could do to earn a living.

She'd come too far to give up.

Considering how much her mother was fretting, this would be a good place to settle. She could send word and let her know she fared well and was safe.

At thinking of having left her ill father and mother, her eyes misted.

Chapter Ten

Her uncle’s study reminded her of home. With dark walls imposing furnishings and the lingering smell of pipe tobacco it brought back memories of her father's own. The McNeil looked up and his eyebrows rose. His gaze traveled past her no doubt expecting to see his wife accompanying her.

"I come alone uncle," Emma told him. "May I speak to ye?"

"Of course lass." He motioned to a chair then standing from his waited for her to do as instructed.

Much too nervous, she would have preferred to remain standing, yet she sunk into the plush seating realizing her knees wobbled and in all probability she would have fallen if attempting to remain upright. "It's about my betrothal."

"Ah." The one word spoke volumes.

Emma hesitated. "I don't wish to marry Gavin McDonnell. To be truly honest, I will do anything to keep from it. I come to ye asking yer help in the matter."

Her uncle bent his head. "I cannot go against yer father's wishes. Ye know that."

"I know," Emma began. "I also know ye can speak to Gavin. Ask that he withdraw his offer of marriage." She leaned forward anticipating his rebuttal, ready with one of her own.

She'd barely slept preparing for this conversation. Her arsenal although full, remained weak. One blaring weapon she did not possess was Paden's declaration of loving her. He’d not been clear about how he felt about her.

The last thing she wished was for was to force him into a marriage because they'd been intimate. That he marry her for honor only.

"I can only think that the reason for this is that ye are infatuated with another. Being that the prospects for someone of your stature are not possible in Moriag, I will venture to guess the man in question is not acceptable." Her uncle's shrewd gaze met hers. Yet in the depths of his keen eyes she saw warmth, which fortified her to continue forward.

"I wish someone would understand me."

"I will tell ye this," her uncle interceded. "Infatuation and yes maybe even love are strong in the beginning. However very quickly the fact that ye would struggle everyday and want for those things ye've taken for granted all yer life would turn to resentment. Yer lack of skills to keep a humble home, along with the changes in yer life, will be a burden on the shoulders of a humble man."

Emma stood. "Just know I will not get married to someone I don't love. I won't do it."

As she reached the door, her uncle spoke. "I will send a messenger to yer betrothed. Ask that he come see me. Instead of asking Gavin McDonnell to withdraw the offer I will state ye wish for more time."

"Thank ye." Emma walked away not quite feeling relief. Instead burdened by her uncle’s statement. She’d not considered how different life would be if married to a blacksmith. He would not be able to provide for servants, nor afford the type of items she was accustomed to owning. What of his home? The cottage was small and sparse. Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d consider all of it at another time.

Just as she got to her chambers, her maid gave her a message. It was from Paden.

I must travel. When I return, we shall speak. Await me.

Chapter Eleven

“I need to earn money to support myself,” Rhona repeated lifting her chin in challenge. “Ye cannot pay for our rooms without expecting some sort of... repayment.”

Rhona met Calum’s gaze and waited. Although he seemed the decent sort, she wasn’t prepared to owe a man for anything. Men sometimes requested payment in ways that had nothing to do with coin.

"Once ye are settled, we can discuss work. For now get yer maid healthy," Calum walked out without another word and Rhona could only stare after him.

“I insist,” she called out.

"He is quite nice," Maisie said lifting her head. "I wonder if he knows of yer brother. Perhaps if ye find yer brother, he can help us."

"My brother is either long dead or far away from here." Rhona tracked Calum’s as he made his way toward the tavern. "He is a nice man. However, he is still a man.”

She grabbed her cloak. “I will return shortly. I must sell some of the jewels to have coin to repay him and pay for this room.”

Once inside the tavern, Calum was surprised to see Angus. The old man sat at a table looking blankly across the room.

"Aye Angus, what brings ye in so early?"

Angus huffed and frowned. "Paden has gone to Skye, so I am to see after the stables with the lads. A couple of fools who can barely sink one nail without causing self injury."

"Ah. I'm sure Paden will return soon."

"I am not so sure." Angus looked to the doorway as Rhona entered.

At the same time Calum followed his line of vision and shook his head. The woman was a stubborn as she was beautiful.

Angus waved her inside. "Hello lass, do come in, don't tally about the door, yer letting the cold air in."

She walked in and hesitated. "I came to be of help." Her clear blue eyes met Calum's with challenge.

“I am Angus.” Angus made a show of bowing.

She smiled. "Rhona McLeod."

The old man let out a gruff chuckle, shaking his head. "Ye wouldn't happen to be kin to the McLeod's of Skye?"

She paled and took a step back. "No." It was obviously a lie, which Angus let go of. "So it seems one leaves and another returns."

"What do ye mean?" Her curious gaze flew from Calum to Angus who shrugged.

"My friend Paden Fraser returns to Skye. Ye can never outrun yer past young lass." Angus sighed. "It always comes calling."

At having known Paden Fraser was not truly the blacksmith's birth name, Calum studied Rhona and then looked to Angus. Both saw the same thing.

* * *

Astride the galloping horse, Emma leaned forward over the horse’s back clinging to the reins. Her breathing ragged and eyes watering from the cold wind, she could only focus on her destination. A guard followed behind and she did not bother to see if he kept up.

Paden had sent as message as he'd promised, but what did it mean? Where could he possibly be traveling to and why now?

His message to wait for him made little sense, other than perhaps something horrible had happened.

She’d made a fool of herself time and time again for Paden, but today it ended. Once she found what happened and ensured he was not dead or injured, she would reconsider marriage to Gavin McDonnell.

There was no need to fight the marriage, after all, she was a laird’s daughter and had to obey. All her life, she’d been aware that whom she married one day had to be to someone that would bring honor and strength to her clan.

She’d go with her husband to wherever he lived. There was absolutely no need to remain in Moriag at the end of the season.

No one was about at the stables. Her guard watched her with curiosity as she stomped to peer inside.

One of the lads lifted his head from working on what looked to be a sword and met her gaze. "Paden has gone, not sure when he will return milady."

"Where to?" She attempted to keep a neutral face.

The lad shrugged. "Ye'll have to ask Angus milady."

"Where is Angus?"

"At the tavern." The young man pointed across the town's square.

She walked slower toward the tavern. If Paden was gone, she very much doubted he would return. Perhaps it was a waste of time to even go there.

Just then the door opened and a familiar woman walked out. Emma blinked and narrowed her eyes. Could it be?

"Rhona?" She neared the pale woman who put a hand up to her chest. "Why are ye here."

Rhona swallowed visibly. "I ran away. I was not going to marry the tyrant who is forcing my father’s hand. No matter how hard my family tried to get out of the agreement it was for naught. I escaped with my maid." Rhona began to cry and Emma guided her to a nearby bench.

"Of course ye did. I find myself in a similar situation. I will help ye. I'm sure together we can find a solution. Come with me and stay at the McNeil's."

"No, Yer family will be required to contact my family. I can't take that chance. I have found suitable accommodations for now. My mother knows I ran away and she is hoping to be able to send word once I can return."

“How I wish I could find my brother.”

"I must tell ye. I met a man here who very much resembles yer brother Stuart," Emma told her and sighed. "It seems ye missed him. He just left."

Rhona's eyes rounded and she looked to the tavern. "I was just told a man named Paden was returning to Skye."

It was Emma now who was shocked. "Can it be then? Perhaps he is Stuart and is returning home?"

Rhona’s face brightened. "If it is him, my brother will protect me. He will not allow this marriage to a man who uses his power to force my family’s hand."

"I think we shall return to Skye immediately," Emma told her friend a plan formulating.

Chapter Twelve

With the backdrop of misty mountains, the McLeod keep loomed huge and imposing. The tall gray walls more of a threat than an invitation to come forward.

Once stepping inside, if he got past the guards stationed at the gates, there would be no escape.

For many years the combination of the walls and high drop the sea protected the clan from invasion or mishap.

Only once that the walls been breached and the battle had been fought in the courtyard. It had been with the help of traitorous guards who'd dislike the late laird.

The story was told for generations, the hero of the day being the youngest son of the laird, who'd fought valiantly and felled many an enemy.

The lad had grown to be a might warrior and leader to clan McLeod. The lad, Brenan, had been quite promiscuous and thanks to that, the McLeod lineage continued. So was the story of his great-grandfather Brenan McLeod.

Stuart McLeod, Paden was now gone, sat atop his newly acquired steed, Raven, and looked down to where guardsmen patrolled the road. Although they gave no indication of doing so, he knew they'd spotted him. Their movements stilted, the men were ready to defend their post.

He guided the horse forward assuring to move slow and raised his right hand. "I come in peace. I'm here to see the McLeod."

The guards studied him with disinterest as one would study a bug. "He is not here." One finally spoke up. "Get on yer way now." He made a shooing motion with his hand while the others laughed.

"Then why does the banner fly high?" He looked to the flag with the family crest, the sight of it bringing a pang to his chest.

"He is not receiving." Another guard, burlier than the first stepped forward. "The family is in mourning." At least this one was serious. His dark eyes meeting his for a moment then narrowed. "Are ye a McLeod."

"Aye. I am." He preferred not to disclose his identity. However at the words, his heart beat erratically. Who had died?. To ask would mean the guards would not allow him past, but he couldn't help the alarm from his voice. "I come to pay my respects. Now let me pass."

After some hesitation, the guards reacted to the command and moved aside.

No sooner inside the gates, did he dismount allowing the stable lads to lead his horse away. At once the familiarity of his home struck and he almost fell to his knees as too many memories assaulted.

In every corner he visualized his brother Larkin. The mischievous lad had a way of getting whatever his wished with a quick wink, a contagious smile followed by a hearty chuckle. The sound of it seemed to echo toward him from every side.

"Stuart?" The familiar feminine voice came from the doorway. He turned to face the first member of his family and prepared for what could turn out to be disastrous.

"Mother." He kept his voice flat and stood still as a statue not moving waiting for the accusations that would come.

Instead she rushed to him, tears rolling down her cheeks as she crashed into his chest. Her entire body shook from the sobs as she held to him. "Thanks be to God that he sends ye back to me now that I need ye the most. Yer Da is dead darling."

The words hung in the air. Stuart's ability to breathe gone until all he could do was take shallow gulps. He dipped his head and placed his cheek on his mother's hair. "What happened?"

"Wound that would not heal. It festered." She sniffed but didn't move away. "We have prayed without ceasing for yer return." His mother moved back and cupped his face with both hands. "Ye have come home."

"I am sorry." He couldn't bear to look into her face. "I have failed ye in so many ways."

His mother's lips curved into a soft smile. "There is nothing that can be done to bring either yer brother or father back. However, now that ye are here, we will work on building a strong future for the clan. Ye are laird now Stuart."

His legs gave out and he fell to the ground. "What?"

"Ye are now The McLeod."

* * *

The next day Stuart paced his chambers. Today he’d face the clan and stand before them as the new laird. It was his duty and the first opportunity to finally recount for his clan the truth about what happened the day he’d left.

He considered what to do about Emma. He’d send a messenger to her and ask that she come to Skye. Letting out a breath, he wondered at her reaction to knowing his true identity. I could be she would rebuff him, especially if she and her family believed him to be either a murderer or a coward.

First he had to take care of the matter at hand and stand before the people of his clan and take the helm as laird. He’d tell them the truth and what happened next would be an indication of how to continue forward.

At this point it mattered not if they believed him or not. As their laird, no one would come forth and accuse him openly. However, it did matter to him, it was important to have the respect of his people.

With his reputation as fierce warrior, he didn’t fear being attacked. His fear was to see hatred in the eyes of the clan people.

The only person who would have anything to gain by his demise was an uncle who lived not too far away, and although the man was a good and fair laird to his people, he lacked ambition, and thus most of the people barely scraped by on whatever they could barter and trade. The last thing his uncle would aspire for was more people to lead.

His mother was the only one who welcomed him openly and without judgment.

“Perhaps, we should just have a celebration feast to welcome ye as Laird. There is no need to explain yerself son.” His mother wringed her hands.

Stuart studied her and felt a sense of love and protection. “Tis best that I do. There will always be questions and I prefer to be open with the people.”

“I will not stand by and allow any disrespect toward ye. I willna attend.”

“Ye must mother. Tis imperative that ye stand beside me as a show of support Mother. No matter how painful hearing what I must say will be, I need ye there.”

He understood that she would hurt when knowing every detail of her youngest son’s death would be he could not grant her exclusion.

Finally she nodded and he held out his arm. “Very well, I will be there and I do trust that they will respect ye as Laird.”

When they entered the great room and walked to the high board, the crowd fell silent. Every eye followed their movements.

Ever the lady of the keep, his mother kept her head held high, her expression soft and looked upon people as they passed acknowledging them.

He assisted his mother to sit and then turned to face his people. For a long moment he scanned the crowd noting familiar faces that’d aged some in the years since he’d left. Young lasses were now women and those older were now much more so.

When he looked to the town council, suspicion in their expressions. From his father's advisors down to the scullery maids, it was obvious everyone knew of the rumors regarding Ian's death and his own disappearance. The suspicions he'd either killed his brother out of jealousy, or had not defended him and left due to cowardice were renewed.

Although the room was mostly quiet, Stuart held up a hand.

“I killed my brother.” The statement brought gasps and widening of eyes. He didn’t look to his mother, as he needed to remain strong. “Not with my own sword, but because I could not defend us both from the group of men who attacked without provocation.”

Swallowing, he continued. “Six men wearing Clan Dunn colors came upon us. I asked Larkin to hide, to run, but he refused to cower. While I fought, I saw a man cut him through.”

His mother’s hitching breath made him hesitate, but he forced himself to continue. “Larkin died before falling to the ground.”

Heart pounding he continued on. “And the accusation I see in yer eyes is correct. I was a coward. I ran. After I placed my brother’s body atop the horse, I went after the men. For all these years, I’ve sought revenge for killing the two that survived.”

The only sound in the room was his mother’s crying and for a moment he almost waivered.

“As yer Laird, I promise ye the same. To fight alongside ye and to avenge any harm that comes. Unlike what I did when grief struck, I will not abandon the clan ever again.” The words made him want to fall to his knees. Not even for Emma would he abandon his people. He had a duty to them now.

Stuart took a breath and turned to the guardsmen.

“Ye are sworn to my family and I ask that ye now stand beside me as I strive to lead and guard the clan. I will need each of ye, because together we will not only defend our people, but also ensure everyone is provided for. I learned a valuable lesson at the cost of my brother’s life. I cannot stand alone. A man no matter how strong a warrior needs a brother in arms at his back. Will ye do that?”

There was a loud “Aye” from the guards who fell to one knee with their sword arm across their chests.

Stuart waited for them to stand before proceeding. “And to ye Clan McLeod, I vow to be a fair leader. Do not take my grief for my father, or my declaration of what happened on the day my brother died as a sign of weakness. I continue to be a warrior first and ask that ye as a clan accept my leadership. I vow to continue in the steps of my father and make this clan a strong and proud one.”

There were mumbles among the crowd finally an older man stepped forward and fell to one knee. “Welcome Laird Stuart McLeod. I declare my loyalty to ye.”

One by one, a representative from each family came forward to swear loyalty. Jaw tight, Stuart fought to keep from weeping. It was a good feeling to gain his birthright back.

This was a day he’d not thought possible and yet without Emma at his side, his heart was not full.

Chapter Thirteen

Emma could not help but shiver at the anticipation of what she’d say once facing Stuart. Accompanied by his sister and her new champion Calum, the trip had been easier than expected.

Rhona’s maid, Maisie, woke up and blinked. “This jostling of the carriage keeps rocking me to sleep.” Emma and Rhona laughed. The woman was making a miraculous recovery. It seemed after learning they’d travel back to Skye, she’d begun to regain her strength.

Rhona nodded. “True it’s hard to remain awake with nothing to see but the passing trees and sky.”

In a few moments they’d be on a boat to Skye and from there less than a day’s journey to McLeod keep.

“I will have to wear a head covering to keep from being recognized by someone of my clan,” Emma declared.

“Mayhaps Ye should visit them first,” Rhona declared. “If not they could worry and send sentries out to look. It would cause yer parents unnecessary concern.” Stuart’s sister was right of course. As anxious as she was to see him, she did not want to cause any more distress than she’d done already by turning down the offer of marriage. Her parents would be furious and she didn’t blame them. It was her obligation to honor their decisions.

How would she explain her love for Stuart? Although he was by blood a McLeod, currently he had little in the way of means. Her father would never agree to a union with him. And as much as it would pain her, even if her mother understood, she would stand with her husband.

With a resigned sigh Emma decided she’d hire a coach and return home. Calum would accompany Rhona home.

“Tell Paden...er Stuart where I am and that I must speak to him at once.” Emma bit her bottom lip. “Tell him I love him.”

Rhona’s smile was warm. “Of course I will.” Stuart’s sister and her maid Maisie would continue with Calum, once she and Anna were aboard a carriage headed home.

Two weeks later...

The grey sky forewarned of another cold day. Stuart McLeod sat at the high board drinking ale and speaking with Calum.

For several days he’d tried to convince the man to remain at Skye. He was obviously smitten with his sister.

“I cannot remain here without a way of supporting myself.” Calum scanned the almost empty room. “A man must have something to offer a woman. Which brings me to a subject I should have spoken to ye about before now.”

Stuart shrugged. “Whatever it is, go ahead tell me.” He expected news from Moriag. Something that seemed to make the bar keep tongue-tied. “I won’t expect anything good, if that helps.”

“Tis good news I think. I held off speaking to ye about it since this is more yer sister’s story to tell. Yer sister... the person...have ye heard?”

“Person? What do ye mean? No I haven’t time alone with Rhona. She’s taken to spending every free moment with ye and most days I’ve gone before she rises. I have many duties. Have to visit the clans people before winter comes.”

“True.” The man swallowed visibly. “I would like to marry yer sister. However I am of lower means and cannot possibly afford her the life she is accustomed...”

“Stop,” Stuart interrupted hating the redness of Calum’s face at thinking he was being rebuffed. “The reason I wish ye to remain is because my sister will be heartbroken if ye go. My mother will be as well. Yer leaving will break two hearts.”

Calum fought not to smile. “What can I do here? I must earn my keep. I am not bad with the sword.”

“Ye can do what ye wish, as long as ye make my sister happy.”

His friend met his gaze. “Ye are a good man Stuart McLeod. There is something else.”

The guards entered signaling last meal would soon be served. Stuart returned his attention to Calum. “What is it.”

“Ye see when we left Moriag, Lady Emma and her maid Anna traveled with us. She sent ye a message with Rhona.”

The pang in his chest annoyed him and Stuart did his best to ignore it. “What was her message?” He suspected it had to do with her deciding to bend to her father’s wishes and marry the man chosen for her.

“I don’t know word for word Laird. However I do know she had plans to see ye and let ye know she will not marry the man, McDonnell.”

For a long moment he could not move. “Are ye sure?”

“Aye,” Calum replied with a grin. “Very sure.”

“Lad!” Stuart called out to one of the young boys sweeping at the rushes. “Go to the stables, ask they bring my horse immediately.” He motioned his personal guards forward. “Get something to eat in the kitchen, we ride at once.”

Just a short while later, he was atop Raven, galloping toward keep McNeil.

The sun was low in the horizon when they arrived at Emma’s home. Unlike his own keep the McKenzie’s did not have guards at a ready near the gates. The clan relied on its reputation for safety and in truth, only a fool would attempt any kind of attack on them. They were the largest clan on the Isle of Skye and although the latest laird was known as a fair man, it didn’t mean he was not as blood thirsty as he predecessors.

Stuart lifted his hand to signal his guardsmen to a stop. “I will continue on alone.”

The men exchanged uneasy glances before one spoke. “We cannot allow it laird.”

He understood and as yet not accustomed to the cumbersome practice of having to be guarded, his every move noted, he let out a breath. It barely worked to restrain his annoyance. “Very well.”

Several women tended to a large garden just outside the gates. It was quite a sight actually as it flourished, sending a fragrance of blooms and herbs into the air.

He glanced at his first. “It would be a good practice for our women to do the same.”

“Aye,” the man replied his eyes never leaving the garden. Stuart imagined he was not looking at the plants, but studying the women.

A familiar figure caught his eye. In the center of a group of women was Emma. She held a basket, her other arm waving in the air as she told some sort of story. The women laughed, then stopped abruptly at noting his party’s arrival.

Guardsmen, who advanced on horseback towards them, had also spotted them.

Not caring what either the men advancing or his own guard did, Stuart dismounted. He hurried toward Emma as she let out a squeal, dropped her basket and raced towards him.

In that moment all ceased to exist, but the beautiful woman who’s loosened hair flowed back as she held up her skirts and rushed to him, her beautiful face flushed, her lips curved into a bright smile.

When they collided, she hugged him so tight, he could barely keep his balance. She shook from head to toe. “Paden. Ye came. I was beginning to think ye would not.”

“I just found out ye were here. Calum told me last night.”

Ignoring the guardsmen from both clans to watch unsure what to do, Paden took her chin and lifted Emma’s face. “I missed ye.”

She smiled and finally looked past him to the guards. “Are ye being arrested?”

“Nay. They are my guardsmen.”

“Because ye are prisoner?”

He laughed as she glared to the men. “I will have my father order yer release immediately.”

“Will ye?” He lifted a brow. “And after that?”

“Ye will live here of course. I spoke to my father and told him I will only marry ye. After explaining things....he agreed.”

What she’d explained to her father must have been compelling. By her hesitation, her father had not agreed readily. “Why would yer father agree to a union with someone suspected of murdering his own brother?”

Once again she looked to the guardsmen. “News arrived that yer father died. I am hopeful yer new laird is more understanding of yer situation, once ye explained.”

“I am called Stuart McLeod now.”

“Stuart.” There was hesitance in her voice. “I will have to get accustomed to it.”

Her expressive eyes scanned his face and he longed to take her away, to spend endless days only with her. “I missed ye.” Finally he could hold back no longer, he took her face with both hands and kissed her soundly.

“Ye must come inside.” She took his hand. “Please?”

He looked up to the guards. “I am here to speak to The McNeil. Will ye let yer laird know The McLeod is here?”

The guardsmen nodded and waited for him to mount. He lifted Emma to sit with him upon the horse.

She leaned back against him. “Ye’re the new laird?”

“Aye.”

Chapter Fourteen

The wedding night had passed without incident. Emma tried to put the entire consummation episode out of her mind. It had been the most stressful, pretending to be a virgin. She and Stuart had fought to keep from laughing as he’d tried to tear the lining to a intestine he’d filled with blood. Then there was the matter of the blood. So much of it had spilled that someone suggested perhaps a healer should be summoned.

She snuggled under the thick bedding and waited for Stuart to join her. It was later than usual, but being his friend Dugan had come that day, she understood. Her aunt and uncle had come for the wedding and remained at his parent’s home. Dugan, who’d traveled with them, came to visit Stuart.

Upon hearing noise at the door, Emma lifted to her elbow and peered to the doorway.

Her husband entered and immediately began to undress. He looked to the bed and smiled. “I think Dugan may remain. He has taken a liking to Skye.”

“Are ye sure it has nothing to do with Anna?”

“Perhaps.”

Emma laughed. “She likes him as well.”

Still unaccustomed to him joining her in bed, shivers traveled through her when he stalked closer. His gaze intent on hers, Stuart leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

As soon as he slid beneath the bedding he pulled her against his body. “I like that ye are without clothing.”

“Ye tore my new chemise last night. I cannot chance losing another,” Emma replied gasping when his erection moved against the sensitive skin of her upper thigh.

Stuart lifted her face. “Ye are the best thing to happen to me? Not being Laird, tis being yer husband.”

Pressing her lips to his throat, Emma licked in a circular motion, excited when his breathing hitched.

“Mmmm,” he groaned sliding both palms down her back and cupping her bottom. “Ye are perfect.”

“Come, roll over,” Stuart guided Emma to her stomach and then to her hands and knees. “I want to show ye something new.”

She glanced over her shoulder, unsure of what he was to do. At the same time her body hummed with anticipation.

The first press of his lips to the center of her back took her by surprise. Emma’s eyes closed when he continued trailing kisses down her spine until stopping just above the mounds of her bottom. He then massaged the orbs while licking and suckling at them.

Her eyes flew wide when his tongue trailed down the center until reaching her core. His tongue explored her and his fingers circled her throbbing nub until she could barely take anymore.

Unable to keep from it, she rocked backward and he drove in. Emma cried out at the unfamiliar way he took her. It was both wonderful and overwhelming.

Her legs trembled and she was sure to collapse as he slid in and out of her in a steady rhythm.

Stuart took her by the hips and began to pick up the pace, his body moving in perfect time with hers. “Take all of me.” He pushed in deeper, filling her so that Emma’s breath caught.

“Yes,” she finally replied. “Oh.”

Just when she was on the brink of release, he pulled out and rolled Emma to her back. Unable to catch her breath, she was limber allowing him to pull her legs over his shoulders.

“What...what are ye doing?”

His grinned. “Showing ye something new.”

“Ooooh,” she lost the ability to think or continue to speak when once again he entered her body. Emma lost every once of control. It was as if he took her completely and there was nothing she wanted more. If he stopped now, she would surely die.

Stuart began moving, his length sliding in and out as Emma could only writhe and clench the bedding. She called out his name, mumbled yes and oh until she made little sense.

When he began to spill, she tightened around his erection, milking his release with so much pressure, he cried out.

They continued locked together both continuing to climb but not falling over the much-needed precipice. Emma could not keep from mewling needing to find release, but at the same time fearing it.

She looked to Stuart. “I, I have to let go...”

Seeming to understand, he licked a finger and stroked her bud. Emma screamed as she fell apart and then everything went dark.

When she finally opened her eyes, Stuart had lowered her legs and now held her against him.

“What happened?”

He kissed her soundly. “Ye fainted.”

“I do not faint,” Emma replied enjoying the contentment that came from being completely and utterly sated.

“Ye fell asleep then?” He kissed her again. “Or perhaps bumped yer head.”

“It was utterly wonderful,” she replied. “What did ye feel?”

“Mmm.” His sleepy reply made her smile.

“I am serious Stuart.”

Her reply was a soft snore.

Chapter Fifteen

Emma stood outside allowing the sun to warm her face. Finally spring came and with it sunshine.

When Rhona exited the back door and hurried to her, Emma’s stomach tightened. “What happens?”

Her friend waved her worries away. “Tis nothing bad. I wanted to show ye something.” Rhona took Emma’s arm and pulled her a short distance away to the other side of the keep.

“Look,” Rhona said in a conspiratorial whisper. “Tis Anna and Dugan.”

Indeed just below them Anna and Dugan sat next to each other looking toward a small pond. Dugan reached for Anna’s hand and lifted it to his lips, while the young woman looked up to him with what could only be described as awe.

“There will be another wedding soon,” Emma exclaimed with a wide smile. “I cannot believe how many changes have occurred since the day I went to Moriag.”

Rhona sighed. “I am so happy for ye and for Anna.”

“What of ye?” Emma reached for Rhona’s hand. “Why did Calum leave?”

Despite the attempt at a nonchalant shrug, it was easy to see Rhona was sad at Calum’s decision. “He didna feel strongly enough for me. I would rather he be honest than to remain here.”

“True.” Emma squeezed Rhona’s hand. “Ye will find true love soon, I feel it in my bones.”

When Rhona laughed the couple below turned. Emma tugged Rhona and they ran back where they’d not be seen. Of course the two below probably noticed them despite the hasty retreat.

Mealtime was special that night, roasted duck was the main course and every one was in good spirits. Sitting between Stuart and his mother, Emma looked toward the main doors as a messenger entered.

“Come forward,” Stuart motioned the young man toward them. Obviously hungry from travel, the messenger kept looking toward the food trays.

“What message do ye bring?” Stuart asked.

“From my Laird, The McDonnell.” The messenger proffered a crumpled wax sealed offering.

“Sit and eat,” Stuart replied to the young man who needed no urging. He raced to a table in the back, sat and reached for bread.

Emma’s curiosity got the best of her. “What is this about?”

“I have not read it yet,” Stuart replied a slight curve to his lips. “Once I do, I will inform ye.”

“What does it say?” Rhona leaned forward from her seat on the other side of her mother.

Knowing it was best to read the missive, Stuart unrolled it and scanned the contents. “Tis an announcement that Gavin McDonnell comes to Skye. His father asks for hospitality.”

“Gavin? Why?”

“Perhaps he seeks a wife? Or it could be he is running from something. I have no way to know.” Stuart began to eat, not seeming to think too much on the matter.

Emma leaned forward and caught Rhona’s eye. “He is very handsome.”

“Is he?” Stuart replied lifting a brow.

“Aye,” Emma affirmed with a bright smile. “Perhaps he can marry Rhona.”

“What are ye saying?” Rhona asked assuring to keep her voice low. “Why would I marry him?”

“No one is marrying any one,” Stuart said pushing his chair back. “Rhona come sit here.” He picked up his plate and went around the table and down to sit with the guardsmen.

“Why did he leave?” Rhona asked sitting next to Emma?

Lady McLeod chuckled. “He cannot take all the questioning while eating. Men are strange creatures. They can only do one thing at a time.”

“True,” Emma said with a nod. “Simple.”

“Quite,” Rhona agreed. “Tell me about this Gavin McDonnell.”

Emma regaled them with the story of how Gavin had come to her uncle’s keep and competed against Stuart in archery.

“I believe he was infatuated with a woman, but just before leaving, she was betrothed to another.”

“Another broken heart,” Rhona said with sigh. “I do not want to be matched with a man yearning for another. I will inform Stuart.”

“After the meal,” Lady McLeod said.

Rhona giggled. “Aye after the meal.” She scanned the room and lowered her voice. “Mother I must tell you about Anna and Dugan...”

Epilogue

Summers in the Highlands were Emma’s favorite time of year. She strolled through the new gardens at keep McLeod and smiled upon spotting her husband. “It is not always the laird strolls through a garden, yet ye do it regularly.”

“I have to ensure my beautiful wife if safe and not taken a spill into our future supper.”

Emma laughed. “It is hard to see where I walk at times. This huge belly can be quite cumbersome.”

“Only a few more days wife.” He took her hand guiding her to a bench where they’d made a custom of spending time talking. “I must discuss something with Ye.”

Emma looked past him to a flock of birds that flew overhead. “Is it serious?”

“Somewhat.” He helped her sit. “Look at me.” When she did, he smiled. “I demand we decide on a name for the baby.”

She laughed, as they’d debated over it daily. “His name will be Paden Stuart McLeod.”

His eyes softened. “Once again, ye insist on the name.”

“Yes. I fell in love with Paden and married Stuart. I wish to name my child after both brave men.”

Stuart let out a sigh. “Very well. However it may be a girl.”

“He’s a boy.”

He didn’t argue, as Emma was usually right. Instead he took her hand and settled back, a smile curving his lips when she rested her head on his shoulder.

The End

About the Author

Writing Highlanders who will battle for your heart...

USA Today Bestselling author Hildie McQueen loves unusual situations and getting into interesting adventures, which is what her characters do as well. She writes romance because she is in love with love! Author of Romance in Highland historical, Western Historical and contemporary, she writes something every reader can enjoy.

Most days she can be found in her pajamas hiding from deliverymen while drinking tea from her David Gandy coffee mug. In the afternoons she browses the Internet for semi-nude men to post on Facebook.

Hildie's favorite past-times are romance conventions, traveling, shopping and reading.

She resides in beautiful small town Georgia with her super-hero husband Kurt and three doggies.

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